


Sour candy

by etoilephilante



Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chaebol Choi Chanhee, College Drop Out Kim Sunwoo, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Depression/Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Kim Sunwoo Has Commitment Issues, M/M, Mild Smut, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts & Talks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, because this one has some heavy themes, chanhee and sunwoo's push and pull relationship, chanhee is straight up bad at feelings, implied drunk sex, in more that one way chanhee is a feral kitten, ish, it's all about getting better okay, oh boi so this tagging section is going to be a hot mess, sunwoo is both good and bad at feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilephilante/pseuds/etoilephilante
Summary: When Sunwoo closes the door behind him, Chanhee quickly rolls the window down, leaning to see him.“Hey, pretty boy! Treat your wounds before it gets infected. Hope our paths never cross again!” And with a salute sign to a bemused Sunwoo, he sits up and drives away.“My name's Sunwoo!” he hears before rolling the window back up.(Choi Chanhee is selfish, has everything, and is running straight into a wall. Kim Sunwoo is selfless, has nothing, and has a super-hero complex. Getting help is a two-way road, they both learn to reach out and hold onto stretched hands.)
Relationships: Choi Chanhee | New/Kim Sunwoo
Comments: 28
Kudos: 107





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE! this work is already entirely written, so i'll update this rather fast
> 
> before leaving you to read, i feel like i should address the themes: this work is a heavy-themed one, but it's all about the process of getting better, healing, and mostly, creating a healthy relationship despite the many inequalities between sunwoo and chanhee. the idea was to work on how to make something work when both are vulnerable in their own way basically. it was dear to me to properly talk abt:  
> 1) power imbalance in a relationship where one has more money than the other  
> 2) mental health, how low and ugly it can get, but that we can get better  
> 3) how toxic a relationship between a "savior" and a "saved" can become by creating a dependency from one to the other and how to avoid it
> 
> i think i tagged everything that needed tagging i'm sorry if i forgot something
> 
> edit: i realized some might not know what a chaebol is, lit. it means "rich family" and it's basically a conglomerate run by a skr family (i.e. samsung), so by extension it's used to speak abt the family members. they're not just rich, they're basically royalty at this point
> 
> if you spot some mistakes, no you didn't. enjoy and see you xoxo

When they meet, Chanhee is standing straight on the edge of a skyscraper, his arms limp against his lanky body. He is watching the huge billboards blankly, not so much interested in the images they're displaying, but fascinated with the way they illuminate the city at his feet. He doesn't notice the shivers that cover his bare arms, the wind strong and cold, and he is not fazed by how it seems kin on pushing him over the edge. Instead, he is fascinated when he lifts a foot and closes an eye and it looks like he is stepping over the crowd carelessly enjoying the nightlife. From where he is, the city looks smaller than him.

But he is pulled back from his thoughts at the same time as two arms wrap themselves around Chanhee's thin figure and forcefully pull him away from the building's edge. He falls hard onto the roof's concrete ground, but a chest cushions his head in the landing. Both his and the stranger's groans are lost in the loud whistle of the wind.

Slightly taken aback, it does take a while for Chanhee to regain his senses and he just stares at the starless sky, listening to the stranger's frantic breath. He is almost lulled by the way his own heartbeat and the one he feels against his head race in harmony.

“Are you okay?” It is a masculine voice, soft but raw – Chanhee briefly wonders if it's husky even when it's not stressed by fear – that breaks the silence.

Chanhee's manic burst of laughter startles the stranger enough to sit up, moving away from him and looking down at him with worry. Chanhee doesn't attempt to sit up as well, he just lets the back of his head hit the concrete, laughing even more loudly.

“Hey, are you okay?” the other asks again, the fear in his tone replaced with confusion. Chanhee calms down slowly, but his eyes shine with mirth when he opens them to look at the stranger.

He's a beautiful one. Chanhee takes his time to scrutinize his ruffled brown hair, his straight and thick eyebrows creased with astonishment, the piercing yet puppy-like eyes blinking down at him, and the white teeth anxiously gnawing at a plush bottom lip. “Did you think I was going to jump?”

“Were you not?” It triggers another chuckle from Chanhee, who feels too amazed by the way the stranger's lashes fan his cheekbones to be annoyed by his meddling.

“Are you?” he replies with a question rather than an answer.

“What? Am I what?” Chanhee can't help but find the other's frown oddly cute.

“Jump. Are you here to jump and got back to your senses when you thought I needed saving, or do you usually visit rooftops to find people in need of saving?”

The question seems to leave the man even more confused, and perhaps slightly sheepish. Chanhee doesn't wait for an answer and stands back to his feet, joining his hands and stretching them to the sky, groaning when he feels his shoulder ache, before dusting the back of his blue jeans. “At a loss for words, mister superhero?” Chanhee raises an eyebrow at the stranger, who's still frowning cutely.

“My name's Sunwoo...” he mumbles, withdrawing into himself and getting up as well. “I work at the wine bar two floors below, came for a smoke,” Sunwoo says, taking a cigarette pack from his back pocket and waving it at him. “Less people here, rich customers are tiring enough to listen to my pretentious coworkers.”

Chanhee hums and laughs again. “I understand, the view is to die for,” he winks at Sunwoo, before walking to the rooftop's door. “This damsel in distress you just saved has to go,” he stops midway, turning back to look at the other man, cracking another grin and taking a few steps backward, sending a salute sign at Sunwoo who has lit a cigarette and is blowing a cloud a smoke while watching him go. “See you, dear knight in shining armor.”

His amused and cynical laugh echoes around Sunwoo even after the door slams behind Chanhee.

*

Choi Chanhee is not a morning person. At all. He is not the type to like routines, but despite his desperate efforts not to live a day similar to the last, every one of his mornings is the same.

His slumber is never heavy, the faintest noise can wake him up during the night, yet when the time comes for his alarms to ring, he usually misses the first couple ones. It's after the fifth time his phone lights up and rings obnoxiously that he manages to open his eyes.

But the most infuriating thing about his mornings is the headaches that make him miss two other alarms and render him unable to fully wake up before a few minutes yet keep him from fully falling back asleep. His nights are always dreamless, never relaxing either, and it leaves him with all his muscles sore.

By the time he has dragged himself to his kitchen to drink coffee while staring blankly through the window, a cigarette between two of his fingers, he is running late. Yet, the dread at the idea of going outside and sitting through his classes freezes him on his stool. So, he just drinks and listens helplessly to the tic and tac of the clock.

Chanhee is acutely aware of who people think he is – someone unreachable, special, something not entirely human. He is also acutely aware of who he really is – a flawed human who tends to pick at each one of his faults, always anxious at the very idea of stepping a foot outside. It is why, despite his tardiness, he always takes a great amount of time to hide the miserable thing he is behind meticulously chosen outfits and accessories. The more he feels like he is rotting from the inside, the prettier he builds the facade.

Whenever Chanhee walks confidently into lecture halls a few minutes late, eyes turn to him to pick him apart. They all settle with the way he pretentiously lifts the corners of his lips and pretends he is not two seconds away from running to the bathroom and throw up the very sparse content of his stomach. He knows also that where he sees judgment and appraisal in their gazes, it is his own delusions speaking – no student is awake enough at 9 AM to pay attention to him, they are merely willing to get distracted by any noise disrupting the class.

It is usually about ten minutes after he has started taking notes of his lecture that the tremble in his hands stops and he can focus on what is being said and not on his anxiety. And it's with his second class that his campus starts to feel comfortable again. When Chanhee is waiting at a vending machine for his cheap and too sweet large cup of coffee to be ready, he lets his mind wander back to a few days back and his pathetic encounter with a guy who made a stranger's business his.

Unconsciously, a smile stretches his lips and he surprises himself with the fleeting fondness he feels as the picture of coffee beans over the vending machine's screen reminds him of Sunwoo's round eyes. Some part of him wants to feel embarrassed at this weird meeting, but it was nothing more than a moment shared between two strangers who are not bound to meet again. So, when the machine beeps and signals him that his drink is done, he easily brushes Sunwoo off his thoughts.

“Chanhee!” Changmin's voice booms in the crowded corridor just as Chanhee is about to exit the building. He waits up until his friend has reached up to him, snorting when Changmin bumps into a poor girl who was too engrossed in her notebook to get out of his way. “My, my, look at me running on a path of hardships just to meet you,” Changmin jokes, slightly out-of-breath.

Chanhee rolls his eyes, turning away to walk out of the building. “What do you want to eat? I'm tired of the cafeteria's food, let's eat out.” He glances at his best friend who is struggling to stuff his notebook into his bag, so he stops to give him time. “On me.”

Changmin looks up when he's done, raising an eyebrow at him, but he shrugs. “Honestly I feel like stuffing my face with something full of carbs. Something that will make me die at age forty.” It makes Chanhee laugh and they slowly walk towards the parking lot.

“Bad day?”

“The worst. I have three assignments to submit by the end of next week and I didn't start shit.” Changmin's moans make him chuckle harder, while he pats his friend's shoulder twice in a half-assed attempt to share his compassion. “And there's this dinner thing with the board members of the company, I'm already tired.” The taller would just continue laughing at Changmin's antics when he pretends to shudder but his heart plummets to the bottom of his stomach and he freezes, his fingers gripping his car keys until his joints turn white. Horror washes over him with the strength of a tsunami.

He looks panicked at Changmin who has just reached Chanhee's shiny black car. “What are you doing? Unlock your car.”

Instead, Chanhee lets out a heart-wrenching whine, crouching down and entangling his bony fingers into his blond hair, pulling at them. “I completely forgot about the dinner!” Changmin blinks and quirks an eyebrow at him.

“What's the big deal about it? Now you know, it's not like you'll miss it.”

And usually, it really isn't a big deal. As sons of conglomerate leaders, they are used to attending these dinners, after all, they're expected to take over in a few years – not that they have much of a choice in the matter.

“No, no, no! It's not that!” Chanhee scrambles up to his feet, rushing to his best friend and grabbing his shoulder, lowering his voice.

“My mother set me up on a date with director Lee's daughter a few days ago, and I didn't show up!” In front of him, Changmin blinks twice and purses his lips. “So of course, my mother was angry and all, and I did what I usually do when my mother is angry at me.”

Changmin doesn't need Chanhee to elaborate to understand. He gives him a pointed stare. “You dropped off the face of Earth until she's not angry anymore.”

“I dropped off the face of Earth until she's not angry anymore,” Chanhee nods, mirroring the shorter boy's stern look.

“And obviously, you can't miss tonight's dinner so now you have to face the consequences of having angered both your family and an important board member there.”

Instead of answering, Chanhee wails in despair, letting his head fall onto his friend's shoulder, who in turn, grabs him to push him at an arm's length. Changmin nods solemnly once and deeply inhales. “Okay, we're eating two burgers each instead of one. No, scratch that, we're going to eat so much carbs for lunch that we'll die at age thirty.” Changmin looks him up and down. “You won't live past tonight, anyway.”

His best friend's dumb joke has the merit of making him smile through his panic and he hits him right into his chest. Changmin splutters while Chanhee flees to the driver's side. “Don't complain, you'll have to bury me tomorrow.”

*

While he tries to muster the courage to start his car, his hands clenched around the wheel and his forehead resting against its leather, the designer belt tightly wrapped around his waist making him nauseous, he has the thought that he should have just made a salad his last meal instead of listening to Changmin. He hits his chest three times with his fist, trying to ease his nausea.

He doesn't know if it's the fries and the three burgers he ate or if it is his dread that makes him feel this way. Perhaps it is both. A loud burp spills past his lips and leaves him surprised. “As refined as ever, Choi Chanhee,” he mutters to himself and finally straightens on his seat, starting the engines.

During the ride, he is praying to every god he knows of that neither his parents nor his three brothers will tear him apart in front of all the board members and their family – but he knows it's a lost battle.

He's not very far from the luxurious traditional restaurant when the car before him brakes suddenly. The back of his head bumps violently against the headrest as he brutally stops and he grunts when he feels the shock pull at his neck. Chanhee is not the type to have a temper on the road, still, annoyance makes him exhale a long sigh. He checks the time on his phone and luckily he's not yet late.

Leaning back on his seat and rolling down his window, he decides to light up a cigarette when he notices that the other car's driver is getting out and simply watches him yell at someone Chanhee can't see. There's not enough space on the road to simply drive past them, so he waits and buys himself time before dinner.

But halfway through his cigarette, as he's looking without really paying attention at the quarrel in front of him, he notices something interesting. The other driver, seemingly frustrated and still harassing the offender, steps back with his hands on his hips, disregarding the bow the other is giving him. When the one bowing is standing straight again Chanhee can't help a startled snort as he recognizes his savior from a few evenings ago. _Sunwoo_. It looks like the knight in shining armor needs a damsel in distress to save him, as well.

He doesn't even realize he's out of his car until he's walking towards the fight.

“Are you going to stop yelling anytime soon? I'm running late, sir,” Chanhee calls out as he reaches them. The driver turns his glare to him, but the blonde's eyes don't leave Sunwoo, who raises his head in shock.

“You!”

“Who are you?”

Chanhee looks Sunwoo up and down, noticing his ripped jeans, bleeding knees, and clenched fists, before turning his attention to the angry driver. He seems to be an office worker, his old-fashioned suit just as wrinkled as his forehead.

“What happened that needs you to yell at a poor kid this much?” Chanhee merely says, going around the angry driver's car. He takes his cigarette to his mouth and exhales a thick cloud of smoke while silently searching for damages on the car.

“This idiot ran in front of my car!” Chanhee looks up at the driver, blowing more smoke.

“It's not very polite to call a stranger an idiot.” His nonchalant remark makes the older man splutter while Sunwoo blinks at him, wordlessly. “From what I see the kid got more hurt than your car.” Chanhee punctuates his affirmation by tapping twice on the car's hood.

“Do you want a beat-up, too?” The driver is visibly getting madder by the second, pointing an offensive finger at Chanhee. “You think I can't do it? You're barely a man!”

The insult only serves to make Chanhee snort. “I don't think you're rich enough to even lay a finger on me,” he says, taking one last drag of his cigarette and dropping it on the ground to step on it. The older man becomes red in the face, spouting more insults.

“You shouldn't throw your cigarette butts on the road,” Sunwoo finally speaks up, walking up to him and crouching to pick it up. Chanhee blinks down at him with a pensive pout, before grinning.

“You're a good boy, huh?” he teases, muting the other driver out. He chuckles when Sunwoo's cheeks grow red, flustered.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

Chanhee doesn't have time to answer that he's pulled back by his collar, forced to face the angry driver.

“What is it, huh?” The man's eyes travel between Sunwoo and Chanhee, a vein ready to pop on his temple. “This a settlement scam, right?”

“Hey, old man you're wrinkling my clothes, I told you I'm late, I just want you to stop yelling in the middle of the road.” Chanhee wraps his long fingers around the man's wrists, trying to break off his grip, to no avail. Instead, the man raises a fist, ready to punch him. He's not scared of getting punched for running his mouth, but he does know well that it hurts like a bitch, so he squeezes his eyes shut and waits – except it doesn't come.

“I'm sorry I inconvenienced you, sir, it's my fault. My friend here doesn't have all his senses, I apologize on his behalf,” he hears Sunwoo politely say, but as he opens his eyes again, he clearly sees the frustration in his fake smile, and his grip around the driver's fist is obviously tight, from the groan the latter lets out.

The older man snatches his arm back, backing off, and Chanhee has the urge to whistle as he sees a glimpse of bright red marks on his skin. But he simply straightens up, pulling his suit jacket down to smooth it out. He reaches into his inner pocket for his wallet, taking two notes and handing it to the man along with his family lawyer's business card.

“That should be enough to convince you to stop yelling and just drive away, right?” Chanhee sends him a predatory smile as the driver's eyes widen when he sees the company name on the card and the numbers on the notes.

He pats Sunwoo's shoulder and points his chin towards his car, indicating him to follow.

“Are you a chaebol or something?” he asks, limping by his side and following him without really realizing he's getting into a stranger's car.

“Were you trying to die by jumping in front of a car?” Chanhee answers instead, hopping into the driver seat and starting the engines when Sunwoo is seated next to him.

“I was late at work, my shift started ten minutes ago,” Sunwoo grunts, scrunching his face. “Do you always answer questions with unrelated questions?”

As if to test the other's patience, Chanhee smirks at him. “Will you be able to work in this state?” He snickers when all he gets is a frustrated sigh and taps twice onto his GPS screen. “Type in the address, I'll take you to work.”

“Weren't you late as well?” Still, Sunwoo does type in the address of his workplace. The blonde shrugs – he is and there's no chance his parents will let it go, but he tries not to dwell on it.

“I'll be fashionably late,” he says, glancing at the place his GPS is indicating. “Another bar?”

“You need to do what you need to to pay your rent in Seoul,” Sunwoo replies distractedly, focused on the dried blood on his knees, before he leans back on his seat, looking around, and snorting. “You know, rich people's cars on TV are always immaculate, but yours is a mess.”

Chanhee takes his eyes off the road, glancing through the rear-view mirror at the mess of clothes, shoes, papers, and junk food bags that litters the backseat.

“You know, the only part that's not ugly about wealthy people is what you see from the outside.”

Next to him, Sunwoo casts him an unimpressed glance. “Are you making a metaphor to justify your mess?”

Chanhee grins. “Absolutely.” Silence settles for a moment in the car, before the blonde speaks again. “You were more than capable of fighting that boomer back, why did you just let him insult you?”

Sunwoo turns his head to look at him, even though Chanhee doesn't take his eyes off the road, and shrugs. “He was obviously richer than me, if we fought, we would've ended up at the police station, and either I'd have to pay a settlement or a fine. Believe me, I wanted to bite his head off, he was making a big deal out of nothing, he didn't even touch me, I got hurt when I avoided him.”

The driver laughs when he hears Sunwoo's annoyance in his rant.

“Did you really defend me because you were late or because you recognized me?”

Chanhee doesn't answer right away, spotting the neon sign of the bar where Sunwoo works and stopping in front of it. “You saved me once, so I wanted to repay my debt,” he retorts, quirking an eyebrow at Sunwoo, and resting his cheeks against the back of his hands over the wheel, watching him open the door.

“Ah! So you were about to jump that day!” Sunwoo exclaims triumphantly, before frowning. “Wait, that came out wrong.”

Chanhee's laughter ricochets within the car. “Never said I was going to, pretty boy. Time to go to work!”

When Sunwoo closes the door behind him, Chanhee quickly rolls the window down, leaning to see him.

“Hey, pretty boy! Treat your wounds before it gets infected. Hope our paths never cross again!” And with a salute sign to a bemused Sunwoo, he sits up and drives away.

“My name's Sunwoo!” he hears before rolling the window back up.

By the time he finally shows up at the dinner, Chanhee is almost an hour late. The receptionist leads him into the large private room and opens the door for him, bowing to him until he has taken his shoes off and entered the room. He looks up to see the glare his entire family is sending him, even if it is concealed under a diplomatic smile.

He scans the face of the board members and their families. No one is scowling, but he is very aware of their judgment. Chanhee, as the last son of his family and the black sheep of the Choi family, is already looked down upon, so his tardiness doesn't help to earn their respect.

He slightly bends down, his arms straight against his sides. “I apologize for coming so late, there was an accident on the road.”

Chanhee goes straight to his vacant seat and sits on his calves, before turning towards the chairman at the head of the rectangle table. “Grandfather, let me pour you a glass to apologize,” he says, grabbing the pot filled with alcohol and leaning forward, but his grandfather moves his glass to the other side of the table, diverting his severe eyes from him and clearing his throat. Chanhee's polite smile twitches and he feels his neck burn.

“I will let you pour me a glass when you change your hair,” Chairman Choi openly voices his displeasure. Chanhee risks a glance towards his father, seated at the other side of the table, directly next to his grandfather, then at his mother. They are silent but he knows to recognize criticism in the way their mouths are set in a straight line. He doesn't need to look at his two brothers – the older between him and their grandfather, and the other next to their mother – to know they're smirking, happy about his situation.

Chanhee hides his embarrassment behind a high-pitched laugh, instead pouring alcohol in his father, mother, and brothers' glasses. “Ah, grandfather, you know I am in my rebellious phase, aren't you happy I'm merely dyeing my hair instead of getting a girl pregnant like Chansoo did when he was my age?” he finishes his jab with a smile towards his oldest brother, sitting back down.

“Choi Chanhee!” his father's voice echoes at the same time as Chansoo puts his chopstick a bit too harshly on the wooden table. He can hear a few quiet snorts and coughing fits from the other board members of the company.

“I'm sorry, it slipped, but it's not like it is a secret either...” Chanhee knows he's going to get an earful, but he can't help to cling to his best defense when he's seen as the outcast: remind them he is not the only faulty one.

His mother glares at him, but she is quick to diffuse the tension by bringing everyone's attention to another subject. “Director Kim, I have heard your youngest one is studying at Oxford?”

And it is all it takes for the dinner to go back to its previous flow, like Chanhee's arrival is a faraway memory already.

Chansoo's broad hand sneaks up to his frail shoulder and Chanhee tries to contain his wince as his brother leans in to whisper in his ear, his clasp tight. “I bet you are proud of yourself, huh? Should I remind you that I'll keep all your dirty secrets only if you behave? Be a sweet little brother and don't act out of line, okay?”

Chanhee feels a lump grow at the back of his throat, helpless as always. He can only glare at his brother, but he nods. His brother releases his shoulder, patting it twice, before listening to their father and grandfather's conversation as if nothing has happened.

It is always like that. It always starts with Chanhee making a mistake and trying to be docile to appease everyone. Sometimes it works, and when it doesn't, he retaliates because no one other than himself will defend him, and then someone will put him back in his place before everyone dismisses him.

Because after all, Chanhee has been nothing more than the problem child ever since he has taken his first breath ever.

The dinner is excruciatingly long and Chanhee spends most of it discreetly sending texts under the table to Changmin, who is seated too far to talk comfortably. He pretends he needs to use the bathroom to excuse himself a moment when the table has been cleaned of the dishes and they're serving tea, and Changmin meets him there not long after.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing Changmin asks when he enters the bathroom, joining Chanhee who's sitting on the marble sink, his legs dangling.

The latter shrugs. “Nothing I'm not used to, I'll be fine.” He throws his car keys at his best friend who promptly catches them. “When everyone leaves, get my car. I'll probably get yelled at a little, but then we can go do some fun stuff.”

Changmin laughs, poking a finger into Chanhee's cheek. “What kind of fun stuff?”

The blonde grins. “I have someone I want to bother.”

The second the only people left in the room is the Choi family, a harsh slap lands on his cheek. It stings and he tastes iron when one of his mother's rings breaks the skin of his bottom lip, but he simply lowers his head, his hands tightly joined behind his back to convince himself to endure.

He does get an earful from his mother, while the four other men in the room do nothing but watch. For them, he is a nuisance, a bug that his mother can clean off their view, nothing worth paying attention to. Keeping quiet and simply muting the cruel words thrown at his face works because, after a few minutes, his mother calms down and breathes out.

“Come home for lunch tomorrow,” she eventually finishes and doesn't spare him one more glance, focusing back on the chairman and her husband.

“Good night,” Chanhee mutters, his voice rough, when they pass by him and leave the room, followed by Chansoo.

When they have left, Chanhee takes a profound breath.

“Are you planning to drink the whole night?”

He looks at his second brother and scoffs. “Why do you care, Chanwoo?”

The older gets up, his smile as always cold and distant. When they're facing, Chanhee feels incredibly small. Both his brothers aren't much taller than him, but they're broader – in the end, it all comes down to it, they look like men, while he's too dainty. Chanwoo towers Chanhee, stares him down, his eyes piercing.

“I don't. But you know I hate dirt,” he grabs Chanhee's jaw between two fingers and tilts his head to see the wound on the corner of his mouth, sending it a disgusted glance before releasing him. Chanhee knits his eyebrows together, holding back a wince. “If you come hungover, it's all just going to be messier. For my sake, stop being a disturbance, hm?” Chanwoo nonchalantly throws him a handkerchief, stepping away from him to also leave the room. “Clean this pretty face of yours, would you?”

Chanhee is still dabbling the tissue over his lip when he joins Changmin at the moment the valet parks his car at the restaurant's entrance. His best friend doesn't need to ask, merely eyeing him worriedly as Chanhee tips the valet and gets into the car, missing the glare he sends to the Choi family, waiting for their cars a few meters away while talking between themselves.

“Your family's a real mess,” Changmin mumbles once he's seating, taking the handkerchief from Chanhee's hands to look at the wound (“Like yours is any better, you're just higher in the food chain,” he answers halfheartedly). “It's not bleeding anymore, but it's bruising.” He's already rummaging through the glove compartment and taking a concealer out before Chanhee can ask. “I'd say ice is better for healing, but you'll just say it doesn't help to get laid.”

“You know me so well,” the blonde quietly replies with a tight-lipped smile while he watches his best friend apply the concealer himself, feeling tears sting his eyes and a lump crush his vocal cords.

“Here, all done,” Changmin says with a bright dimpled grin, and discreetly catching a single tear with his thumb the moment it falls on Chanhee's cheek – they both pretend the tear was never there.

Chanhee looks at himself in the rear-view mirror. The wound on his lip is still visible, but no bruise is anywhere to be seen, so he nods, satisfied.

“So, about that someone you want to bother...”

That's how Chanhee parks his car in front of the bar where he dropped Sunwoo off just a couple hours ago. Changmin stops rambling about nothings, looking over to the bar and arching an eyebrow curiously. “Where are we? I thought we were going to Itaewon.”

Chanhee shrugs. “I guess this is a regular bar, we're not so far from the campus so there should be just as many students.”

His friend eyes him quietly before smirking. “You usually don't go out of your way to find new places to drink especially if it's as normal as this one, so something must've led you there... someone?”

Chanhee punches his arm, making Changmin laugh devilishly, but they both go out.

It's obvious they're overdressed when they enter the place, most of the students celebrating the end of the week here wearing casual outfits. But Chanhee doesn't give it much thought, while Changmin smoothly takes his suit jacket off and undoes one more button of his white shirt than is decent.

The bar is not extraordinary but decent. The lights are warm and subdued and trendy pop songs are playing, blending perfectly with the noise of the customers chatting and laughing between themselves. Chanhee doesn't usually go to places like these when he's up for a drink and a one-night-stand, preferring bars or clubs that only the upper class goes to, but he finds himself quite pleased by the atmosphere.

The blonde attaches himself to the smaller's arm when he spots Sunwoo behind the counter, while his friend makes a noise of surprise.

“There are some people from our year group over there,” Changmin points his chin towards a table at the corner.

“Hm? Oh well, I did say it's not far from our campus,” Chanhee merely shrugs, barely giving them a glance, all his attention turned at Sunwoo who has yet to notice him.

“Let's join them!”

“Yeah... what? Why?” But before he can protest, Changmin is already dragging him to their classmates' table.

His friend, always the sociable one, fortunately, knows everyone, while Chanhee still has a hard time putting a name on the face of these people, even though they've been sharing classes for three years. “Mind if we join you?”

Behind the counter, Sunwoo is moving around with a slight frown, his hands expertly making cocktails.

“Oh, Changmin, Chanhee! What are you doing there? Didn't you say you had some family thing?” one of them welcomes the pair, his tone friendly even if slightly slurred. “Hey, you useless fucks, move so they can sit.”

The blonde watches the bartender smile at two customers, chatting with him while sipping on the drinks he has just served. Chanhee eventually diverts his attention away from Sunwoo when Changmin pulls at his arm and he falls onto a leather couch. He recognizes the one who made space for them as Moon Kevin, the foreign student – who is quite famous in their department for the few cultural shocks he's given to some old-fashioned professors. The only other boys he can name in the group are Lee Juyeon, their year representative, and Kim Younghoon, the senior who had made sure all the girls went home safe and sound after their integration party at the start of their first year.

“Choi Chanhee, I'm almost impressed you're here, you usually don't join us for nights out,” the classmate sitting in front of him exclaims, but it sounds more like a playful joke than a reproach, so Chanhee relaxes and laughs. “I thought you were just not the fun type.” Next to him, Changmin glances at him.

“Don't get him wrong, he's a drunkard, Haknyeon,” Chanhee mentally thanks his best friend for saving him and saying the boy's name, “he's just too pretentious to mingle with regular peeps.”

The whole table laughs while Chanhee pretends to glare at his friend, pinching his arm.

“To show you how grateful we are for you gracing us simple peasants with your presence, let me buy you a drink,” Younghoon continues the banter, winking at him from the other end of the table, while everyone whistle at his smooth move and Chanhee laughs, faking sheepishness with a hand covering his mouth delicately. He doesn't refuse it, not only because it wouldn't be polite, but also because Sunwoo will have to come and inevitably see him.

And indeed, five minutes later the bartender is here with a beer and looks at him with wide eyes when Chanhee raises his hand to signal the drinks are for him and Changmin.

“So much for hoping our paths don't cross again,” Sunwoo says, putting drinks in front of him and Changmin. The latter beams at Younghoon, thanking him.

“I changed my mind,” Chanhee replies, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Sunwoo only rolls his eyes and goes back behind the counter while the other snickers and turns his attention back to his classmates, who are looking at him, skeptical.

“So that's why you wanted to come here,” Changmin muses, amused.

“You know him?” Kevin asks, surprised.

But Chanhee dismisses the question quickly. “Not really. Should we play games?”

They do play a few games, getting drunker by the minute. Chanhee loses a few rounds, along with Younghoon, and soon they're both a giggling mess, while the others openly mock them for being losers. At some point, Chanhee finds himself switching places with Kevin to sit next to their senior and they both leave the others to their games, talking between themselves. The blonde finds nice the grip Younghoon rests on his thigh when he leans into him after giggling too much. Sunwoo comes to their tables a few more times, serving them new drinks and Chanhee catches the disapproving looks he sends to the wasted pair he and Younghoon make. The only moment he detaches himself from his college senior is when he excuses himself to the bathroom.

“Another beer, please,” Chanhee orders, sitting at the counter before coming back to his table, and batting his eyelashes at the bartender.

Sunwoo looks up at him, but his hands keep wiping a glass and he makes no move to make his drink. “I think you've drunk enough if you're going to go home with that guy.”

The blonde scoffs. “I know my limits.” Sunwoo simply stares at him, doubtful, which makes Chanhee blow a strand of hair out of his forehead in annoyance. “Really, not my first time, not my last, I know what I'm doing.”

“Honestly you look too skinny for the amount I saw you drink.”

Chanhee doesn't immediately answer, watching Sunwoo tend to another customer before coming back to him. “That's funny you smile at all your customers but me, I've only seen you scowling at me.”

“It's my job to smile at people and make them buy more. It's not like we've met in good situations,” the bartender shrugs, disregarding him – Chanhee pettily feels butt-hurt.

“You're so weird,” he mutters, prompting Sunwoo to raise his eyebrows at him, before going back to wiping the glass in his hand.

“How's so?”

“You keep scowling at me and trying to meddle in my business, even if you have yet to ask me my name,” Sunwoo puts the glass down and sets his palms on the counter, leaning forward, listening, “I'd almost think it's that you don't like me, but you're acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

Chanhee gathers his elbows in front of himself and also leans forward, until their faces are no more than a few centimeters apart, despite the counter between them.

“I don't know what's messed you up so bad that you're seeing romance in basic human decency,” Sunwoo bites back but the blonde merely bursts out in laughter.

“I like you. Want me to ditch my friend and sleep with you?”

Though Chanhee does find Sunwoo attractive, he asks more for the sake of getting a reaction out of him than hoping for a positive answer. The latter sighs, pushing on his hands to move away from the blonde and instead lean against the shelves behind him, but Chanhee wiggles his eyebrows at him when he spots a beet-red blush rising from his collar, despite how he obviously tries to hide his flustered state.

“I'm working.”

The blonde grins wider. “That sounds more like an excuse than a no.”

“I'm gonna call a designated driver for you, you should go home,” Sunwoo sighs, grabbing his phone in his back pocket.

“Did you treat your wounds?” Chanhee ignores him, but the other does the same.

“Chanhee!” Both he and the bartender turn their heads towards Younghoon, who stops next to him, placing a broad hand in the middle of his back. “Kevin's boyfriend came to get him and Changmin's leaving with them. Do you have any means to go home, or you want to go with them?”

Younghoon's words are slurred and he talks slightly more loudly than necessary, yet Chanhee smiles at the considerate way he's treating him. He points at the bartender with his chin, who quickly types something on his phone before looking back at them.

“This kind sir called a designated driver for me,” Chanhee leans further into Younghoon, “you should come home with me.”

His college senior glances at Sunwoo before focusing back on his junior and smiling. “We're both drunk.” Yet he doesn't resist when Chanhee sneaks his thin arms around his torso and grazes his lips under his ear, letting out a faint appreciative noise.

“I'm not going to regret tomorrow if that's what you're worried about,” the younger boy whispers, before getting up from his stool, pulling on Younghoon's hand. “If you don't think you will either, come.”

It only takes two seconds for the elder to follow after him, wrapping a steady arm around his waist. Chanhee turns around one last time before exiting the bar, winking at Sunwoo when he sees him still watching them, his strong eyebrows set in a harsh line and one corner of his nicely shaped mouth raised in disapprobation. Yet, for once, he leaves Chanhee to his business.

* 

On Monday, Chanhee is barely awake at 10 AM when he decides to stop by a nice coffee shop on his way for his first class. He had barely slept the night before, rushing to write a paper he had completely forgotten about, due later in the day, and he woke up with yet another headache – one that was probably sent to him by Satan himself. So, for once, he indulged in his laziness, choosing to go out in simple black jeans and an oversized hoodie, skipping makeup and hiding his bare face behind thick reading glasses, hoping no one would decide to bother him for the entire day.

He sighs quietly when he sees the waiting line in the coffee shop but ultimately decides his need for coffee is bigger than his impatience and grabs his phone from his back pocket to scroll through his Instagram feed.

“A caramel macchiato with three extra espresso shots, extra-large, to go please,” he mumbles once he's reached the counter, not raising his eyes from his screen – he has closed the Instagram application to open Twitter and now he's engrossed in some storytime thread.

“And the name is Chanhee,” the blonde is about to hum when he freezes, snapping his head up so fast to look at the waiter that his neck cracks. “You look human today, what an unexpected sight. Card or cash?”

_Sunwoo_ , again.

Chanhee winces, tilting his head from one side to another to ease his soreness. “Card. How many part-time jobs exactly do you have? Don't you go to school?”

Sunwoo slides the empty cup with his name and his order towards his coworker and shrugs. “College is for kids who are slightly more well-off and better at studying than me. You look like shit, bad weekend?”

Chanhee snorts at the curious glance Sunwoo sends him, smart enough to understand the other man is curious about what happened with Younghoon. “You just said I look human.”

“Regular humans look like shit.” Another shrug.

The blonde chuckles. “A research paper kicked my ass last night, that's why.”

When Sunwoo sends him a skeptical look, Chanhee has the thought that he has yet to look at him with something other than skepticism, doubt, or confusion.

“Is it that same paper that gave you this bruise?”

Realization dawns onto Chanhee when he brings a finger and pokes the bruise on the corner of his mouth, still slightly painful. “Ah, to be honest, Younghoon and I made out in the car like horny teenagers and all the way to my bedroom, but the second we reached the bed we both passed out drunk.”

Chanhee snickers mischievously when Sunwoo's ears become red but his shoulders visibly relax. “Didn't ask the details, just wanted to make sure your boyfriend didn't do that.”

“Sweet, there you go meddling in my business again,” the blonde teases, still, he doesn't feel an ounce of annoyance. Someone clears his throat behind him and Chanhee remembers the line waiting to order. He sends an apologetic smile to the other customers before grabbing a napkin and snatching Sunwoo's pen under the latter's startled gaze, though he doesn't protest and only waits, curious. “You have my mother to blame for the bruise. It looks like something wants us to keep meeting, so here's my number, don't throw it away.” With these last words, he moves towards the end of the counter to get his drink, barking out a laugh when he sees Sunwoo blinking at him, stunned, before fumbling to get back to his senses and take care of the next customer.

When he gets his coffee, he goes to leave, but decides to turn around one last time and calls out for Sunwoo, who looks up at him with wide eyes, as well as all the customers in the shop. “Younghoon's not my boyfriend!”

With these last words, he leaves, satisfied to hear Sunwoo having a coughing fit before apologizing and going back to his work.

Chanhee enters the lecture hall in a better mood than when he left his apartment.

*

He watches the city buzz angrily under him. Tonight is one of those nights where all he feels is emptiness and apathy.

It isn't a mood Chanhee is unfamiliar with, though it doesn't hit on a daily basis, it happens often enough that he doesn't try to fight it anymore. It is a weekday and as the sun starts to rise on the horizon, muted pink blending into indigo, he knows his first class will start in a couple of hours. He hasn't slept but not because he failed to sleep. He simply lost track of the time sometimes during the evening, spiraling until it was too late to bother.

His stomach rumbles, but he feels too sluggish to eat, too nauseous as well. Instead, he fills his glass of wine again and brings it to his lips. The wine is an expensive one, a bottle he was gifted at a birthday party by one of his father's associates' daughter. It is good but the nausea he gets after his third glass is the exact same as the one any cheap bottle can give.

Putting his elbows on his balcony's handrail and leaning forward, he lights a cigarette up. His throat burns and his tongue is furred, the bitter taste of ash and alcohol not easing his nausea in the least, but he is too jittery to resist nicotine.

“America...” Chanhee mutters at the city below him, his voice hoarse, before laughing as he remembers his lunch at his family's mansion, three days prior. He has tried not to think much about his father's words during the meal.

“ _Perhaps you could go finish your studies in America. Here's a list of universities suitable enough for you.”_

There were only two reasons rich parents sent their children to a foreign country, here. If they sent them to a renowned university, it was to show off. If they sent them to a no-name university, it was so their reputation wouldn't be tarnished by a problematic child. The list his father's assistant gave him is made of renowned universities because the only thing they can brag about when talking about him is that Chanhee has always been top 1 when it came to school. But he knows they don't need to send him away to show off because he's a few months away from his graduation in Korea's most renowned university. They just wanted to get rid of him while still being able to show him off.

“ _If you had been a daughter it would've been more convenient, we could've at least married you off,”_ his second brother often said.

There are many reasons why Choi Chanhee has been the faulty one since his first intake of air. But never they tried to send him away, until now. At least, they tolerated him. Even if he was a stain to them, he has never crossed the limits that he would be a real danger to them. Until now. And he doesn't even have an idea what he has done.

He takes a long drag off his cigarette and blows its smoke until his lungs feel empty. He guesses he should be happy to leave, that he should've agreed to it right away instead of just silently taking the list and saying he'd think about it with a broken voice and leaving before the end of the meal. But the rejection, though a terribly familiar feeling, stings a bit too much for him to run towards freedom.

Drinking the remaining of his wine in one gulp he pushes himself off the handrail and goes back inside his apartment trying not to think too much of the way he wants to rip his own skin apart and instead spends twenty minutes in the shower, letting the scorching hot water wash his sleepless night off. When he turns his phone on while he's drying his hair, he sees a message he received during the evening from an unknown number and his heart inexplicably jumps in his chest.

_I feel like I'll be craving dumplings for lunch tomorrow, want to join? Sunwoo._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom) / [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't understand much of his own feelings if he's honest. He doesn't know why he feels this need to protect Chanhee and why he worries about him, despite him being a stranger – despite having his own fair share of unresolved issues. Maybe it is the lack of social life he has that makes him crave new relationships or the big intake of fresh air that is every small event that breaks his daily routine.
> 
> Sunwoo doesn't know much, so as usual, he just listens to his guts, telling him to meet Chanhee again.

Kim Sunwoo is woken up that day by loud knocks at his door. It takes him a moment to understand what's going on, struggling to keep his puffy eyes open, but he eventually drags himself to his door. He opens it and immediately moans when he's blinded by the sunlight, but he grins when he sees his best friend's mother, who lives in the house downstairs and owns his small apartment.

“Ah, Sunwoo, I didn't know you were still sleeping!” The middle-aged woman smiles apologetically at him, but he shakes his head, smiling politely.

“No, it's okay, it's not too early anyway,” he reassures her and stretches his arms out to grab the three food containers she's holding. “It looks heavy, let me take it.”

She beams at him, kindly. “I saved you some side dishes, I bet you're only eating instant noodles,” she shakes her head disapprovingly while Sunwoo laughs.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hur, you're saving my life!”

The woman lightly hits his arm at his exaggeration. “Enough of that, you deserve it for being such a good tenant. Is everything okay at work?”

Sunwoo nods. “Thank you for recommending me to the coffee shop's owner.”

“You'll have to thank Hyunjun for that, I wouldn't have thought to ask my friend if he hadn't reminded me. Now, now, I know you have the morning off, go put these in the fridge and go buy yourself new shoes, okay?” Sunwoo doesn't answer anything but puckers his lips in a pout, showing his unwillingness. “Silly, I know you saved enough, don't look at me like that. You're going to hurt your back if you keep wearing worn-out shoes.”

She leaves only when Sunwoo sighs and relents, promising to listen to her. He does have enough money to buy new shoes, but anxiety crawls under his skin whenever he has to spend, immediately thinking about his brother's hospital bills and the money he has to send his mother to make sure she and his younger siblings can live comfortably.

He checks his phone after putting the food in the fridge and an adrenaline rush finishes to wake him up when he sees the weird chaebol guy has replied. The clock indicates 9 AM which leaves him enough time to get ready.

Sunwoo's life, ever since he's dropped out barely three months into his first year of college, isn't very eventful. He's mostly running between part-time jobs, doing his best to provide for his family after his brother was hospitalized, and now that his sister is about to start college herself. So, except for the few friends he already had, he doesn't get to meet new people and create relationships.

He has met Chanhee only four times, yet Sunwoo can't help but latch on the way he's making the straight train of his life derail. He also can't help but cling to the way his thoughts constantly go back to him, despite the annoyance he feels every time he messes with him.

He doesn't understand much of his own feelings if he's honest. He doesn't know why he feels this need to protect Chanhee and why he worries about him, despite him being a stranger – despite having his own fair share of unresolved issues. Maybe it is the lack of social life he has that makes him crave new relationships or the big intake of fresh air that is every small event that breaks his daily routine.

Sunwoo doesn't know much, so as usual, he just listens to his guts, telling him to meet Chanhee again.

He sits on his bed with a grunt, dialing his mother's number and looking around his apartment. It's quite small, but it's comfortable and well-maintained, and most importantly, it's cheap.

“Sunwoo! How are you? It's been so long since you last called,” his mother immediately bombards him when she picks up. Sunwoo smiles with fondness when he hears his sister and their youngest brother bicker somewhere.

“I'm sorry, I didn't get to. Why aren't Sunjin and Sunjung at school? Did you get the money I sent you?”

“We did, our little one keeps growing out of his school uniform, so we could buy him a new one.” In the background, he hears a broken “I'm not your little one!” and laughs heartily. “They both caught a bad flu and passed it to each other.”

“And Sunho?”

“He's finally getting used to his new treatment, so he's doing better, don't worry too much, okay? Aren't you tired? Don't you want to come home a little?”

“I have to work, mom, you know it. I miss you all.” There's a tremble in his voice, but he coughs to hide it. He does miss his family a lot, he selfishly stays in Seoul to feel like he hasn't entirely given up on his independence.

They stay on the phone a little longer, before Sunwoo eventually hangs up to get ready.

Sometimes, something ugly grows in his stomach and he starts resenting his family for what his life has become. But then he calls them and he's inevitably reminded of the reason why until each one of his siblings is living a comfortable life, he's going to make them his top priority. If they can achieve their dreams in the future, paying the price of giving up his own dreams is worth it.

Sunwoo decides against buying himself new shoes, despite promising it to Hyunjun's mother.

*

He's slightly out-of-breath when he arrives outside Chanhee's campus where they have decided to meet, having run not to be late. His hands on his knees while he regains his breath, Sunwoo briefly hopes that one day he can buy a car, so he stops relying on public transports that for some reason seem very adamant about making him a late person.

When his heart stops beating like it's going to blow up, he stands up and looks up at the huge campus, and tries not to feel bitter at the sight while he looks for Chanhee in the crowd. Fortunately, he easily spots him right when he comes through the gates and waves at him.

Far from a couple of days ago, the student looks stunning wearing simple jeans shorts, a baby blue vest above a bright white shirt, and a matching beret. He also looks like he's coming straight out of a rom-com with the books he's holding in one arm and the cup of coffee in his other hand. Sunwoo feels inadequate in this sea of students when he looks down at his own clothes – despite wearing the newest ones he has in his wardrobe, they still look worn out in comparison.

“Didn't expect you to make the first move,” Chanhee says when he has reached him and Sunwoo snaps his head towards him and shrugs.

“Didn't you give me your number hoping I would?”

The blonde chuckles softly. “I wanted to test you actually, to see if you'd throw it away and if I'd have to kidnap you at one of your workplaces.”

Sunwoo snorts, amused – and a little happy he has surprised Chanhee, feeling like he finally has the upper hand in front of him who has been the unpredictable one so far. “You know, you said I'm weird but you're just as weird.”

“How's so?” Chanhee purposely answers the same he had done.

“You have this angelic face of yours and I bet everyone thinks you're cute and kind, but you actually just say nonsense all the time. Your face really doesn't match your personality.” It makes Chanhee laugh loud. Sunwoo quietly scrutinizes the graceful hand that covers his mouth and feels oddly enticed by the way a gilded bracelet hugs his thin wrist. He has the violent urge to wrap his own hand around his wrist to feel how delicate it actually is, if it just looks weak and is steadier or if it really is.

“So, where do we eat? Is it far?”

Sunwoo finally wakes up from his daydream about the blonde's wrists and starts walking, followed by the other. “Not really, it's just a couple of street down.”

“Convenient, I didn't take my car.”

Sunwoo glances at Chanhee. “Why?”

“Honestly, I'm sleep-deprived and drunk at the moment.” Sunwoo chokes and stops, blinking at the student, skeptical. Chanhee turns around when he notices Sunwoo isn't walking anymore.

“You're joking, right? You partied on a weekday and you're here looking all fine?”

He snorts. “Good makeup does wonder, remember my car? I'm the same. Come on, if we don't eat soon I'll just eat you instead of dumplings.”

Sunwoo stays silent. Once again, worry fills him even though they barely know each other. He mulls over all the self-destructive behaviors he's noticed on Chanhee during each one of their very few and very short meetings. He has the thought that he's probably just seeing the tip of the iceberg and feels sick.

“I can hear you overthinking, stop that.”

He wants to ask if he really did party on a weekday or if he drank alone but he knows he can't ask no matter how much the question itches his lips. Chanhee sighs, exasperated.

“Listen, it looks like you're the empathetic type, so I'm sorry I should've lied, but my issues are not yours,” Sunwoo can't help but notice that Chanhee is scratching his forearms, though his gaze is as nonchalant as he's always seen it. “Just pretend you didn't hear a thing if it bothers you and let's go eat, okay? I'm really starving.”

In the end, Sunwoo does relent because he senses that Chanhee is uncomfortable. He silently grabs one of his hands so he stops digging his nails into his skin, but can't find it in himself to let go afterward – he doesn't want to think about how he's relieved that Chanhee doesn't try to break free.

They both stay quiet until they're sitting in the dumpling shop and have ordered.

“I'm trying to find a joke to diffuse this atmosphere but I feel like my brain is empty now,” Sunwoo eventually says, frowning and looking away from Chanhee.

But the latter's frown smoothes out at his grumpy confession and the teasing glint in his pupils is back. “Looks like you're not made for excessive thinking, you did a little earlier and now you've overworked your brain. Just live dumbly, it'll be easier.” Sunwoo glares at him, but the corners of his mouth twitch when he tries to hold his laughter back, as he kicks Chanhee's ankle under the table.

The blonde returns the glare and rubs his painful ankle. “Anger issues much?”

“Lots and lots of them so don't push it,” Sunwoo replies with a satisfied smirk.

They keep bickering playfully until the food is being served and by that time all the previous tension is entirely gone.

“So, why did you invite me for lunch?” Chanhee asks with an entire dumpling stuffed in his cheeks. He looks like a small animal and Sunwoo almost wants to pet him.

“Ah, don't get me wrong, I didn't invite you to eat but to pay,” he says without raising his eyes from the plate in front of him. But when he does, he can't hold back a fit of laughter any longer as he's met with Chanhee's frozen and flabbergasted face.

“What? I bet the ring on your pinkie could pay for everyone's meal here, don't act so shocked,” he continues when he sees that Chanhee does nothing but blink at him, protectively covering his ring with his other hand. Until he retaliates and he's the one getting kicked in the ankle.

“Ah!”

“Perhaps I should've stuck to wishing we don't meet again,” Chanhee mumbles, rolling his eyes, but eventually grins back at Sunwoo.

“So, anyway, what's your story?” Sunwoo decides to change the subject when he's swallowed the last dumpling he stuffed into his mouth.

“My story?” Chanhee looks a bit lost – Sunwoo dreads the feeling that blooms in his stomach when he realizes he's seeing more and more sides to the blonde the longer they spend time together and that he finds them all worth remembering.

“You know, you're a chaebol. In TV shows everyone gets their tragic backstory that explains why I should feel sympathy for them even though they could buy my entire person. Like why you were on that roof that day.”

Chanhee snorts, leaning back and the mirth dancing in his eyes doesn't go away. “So, you want my villain origin story?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

The blonde grins wider. “I don't have one because there's no need for big traumas to feel the way I do. I'm just privileged enough that I have nothing better to do than be unhappy.”

“So there's no plan on your part to overthrow your family's power and eradicate corruption?”

Chanhee seems genuinely amused by Sunwoo's playful remarks, and the latter is happy when he easily follows. “Disappointing of me I know, but alas! In real life, the black sheep of the family can't do much more than staying quiet if he doesn't want to be sent away.”

Sunwoo has no means to know if Chanhee is speaking of himself, but the faint self-depreciation he hears in his tone gives him the feeling that he is. Still, he doesn't try to confirm his suspicions, not wanting him to lose his smile when he looks at ease.

“Here, no villain origin story, no sympathy for me, no redemption arc, end.”

“How cynical of you,” Sunwoo merely answers, unconvinced by Chanhee's conclusion.

“I guess, but I mean, you're the one trying to rationalize why a rich kid is depressed when just like you said, I could buy you.”

“Ouch,” Sunwoo replies but remains unfazed.

They both hold each other's gaze for a moment, looking for something in each other without really knowing what exactly. Sunwoo has no idea what he's doing and why he feels so pulled towards Chanhee, but every time they meet the latter accidentally spills something more about himself as if he's an overflowing glass, before fleeing from his inquiring gaze while Sunwoo just can't bear the sight of this stranger destroying himself. Eventually, Chanhee blinks and breaks their impromptu staring contest, diverting the subject towards Sunwoo's family.

When they leave Chanhee does pay for them both and Sunwoo walks him back to his campus.

*

After that, they keep seeing each other and develop an odd relationship that confuses Sunwoo, though he's not willing to question it yet. Choi Chanhee is an unusual character in his eyes and an even more unusual presence in his life, and some parts of him know he should find resentment within himself for this boy who has everything Sunwoo doesn't have. When they met, he did take the first step towards him but he didn't expect it to grow into something more. He didn't expect to see so much of Chanhee and now he is unable to turn back and look away. After their first meeting, it was evident to him that he was a one-time stranger, and after their second meeting, he simply thought it was a coincidental thing. It is Chanhee who made this coincidence into something intentional by willingly coming back to his workplace and showing him enough that Sunwoo became emotionally involved, as well.

He isn't surprised that once this thing they have going on has shifted from coincidental to intentional, he easily welcomed it because it is who he has always been. Someone who faces anything that is sent his way and never resists nor tries to hide.

Chanhee, however, does seem to run away whenever something doesn't go according to his plans. It is why, while Sunwoo's own behavior doesn't surprise him, Chanhee's does. Because the older boy looks like he's latching onto him – despite pretending he isn't – just as much as Sunwoo. He wonders briefly if shifting things from coincidence to intention is his way to make himself feel like he has full control of the situation. If the reason why he isn't running away is that he has managed to make himself feel like whatever they have going on is going according to his plans.

Sunwoo squints his eyes at Chanhee who is expressionlessly staring at the wine glass he's twirling between his long fingers, sitting at the other end of the wine bar's counter. He has come to learn that the blonde is definitely the type to do something only if he thinks he has decided to on his own accord, but there's also this look in his eyes that makes Sunwoo thinks there's something more to it, yet he can't quite put his finger on what it is that he sees.

Chanhee raises his gaze and meets Sunwoo's, his previously pensive look morphing into an impish air, and he raises his glass to him, letting out a nebulous puff of laughter when the waiter diverts his eyes, pink coating his cheeks.

“Sunwoo!” his manager calls out, startling the boy. “Go take a break now while there aren't many customers, there's a big group coming in half an hour and I'd like you to take care of them tonight.” The manager pats Sunwoo's back twice and the latter nods, thanking him.

Chanhee is beaming by the elevator when Sunwoo approaches after retrieving his jacket. He glances down at the wine glass the blonde is still holding with disapprobation. He's also holding a shopping bag but he doesn't pay much mind to it.

“I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to leave with this glass,” he says, pushing on the elevator's button.

Chanhee looks at his glass and shrugs. “I bought it when your coworker tried to stop me.”

Honestly, Sunwoo dislikes, even hates how carefree the older boy is when it comes to alcohol. He does work at two bars and serves alcohol to different types of people every night of the week, and he's not averse to alcohol either. But it saddens him to look at Chanhee walk straight to a wall while being convinced he's far from crossing the no-turning-back line.

So, when the elevator's doors close behind them he does the very stupid thing his guts tell him to do and snatches the glass from Chanhee, who makes a strangled noise that sounds both like protest and surprise, and downs the remaining liquid.

There's a moment of silence during which Sunwoo winces, disgusted, while Chanhee just stares at his empty glass.

They both jump when the elevator's doors open again with a ding, but Sunwoo immediately gets out without looking at the blonde.

“You're really, really infuriating,” Chanhee says, his voice somber when he's caught up to him just as he reaches the rooftop's entrance. “You think you did something there?” he asks, fuming.

Sunwoo lights up a cigarette. Frankly, he regrets what he has done because he hates wine, he's not supposed to drink at work, and he already feels his eyelids getting heavier. “The fact you're getting angry right now just proves me you're on your merry way to alcoholism, Chanhee.”

The blonde yells out a frustrated groan. “I'm getting angry because that was just rude, Sunwoo.”

“Stop lying to yourself.”

Chanhee scoffs and glares at him, also lighting a cigarette, before he stomps to the edge of the rooftop. Sunwoo follows him with his eyes but stays put, knowing that the other needs space. Perhaps he doesn't have the best methods when it comes to helping people, but he's only a friend and not a psychiatrist. He'll let the professionals take care of the therapy, while his only goal is to put some senses in Chanhee's head. He does regret drinking, but he doesn't regret confronting him.

“Are you calm yet?” he asks after a while when he notices that his legs have stopped bouncing.

Chanhee turns around.

Sunwoo has the out-of-place thought that he looks unreal against the city lights shining behind him.

“You're really annoying, you know that?” There's defeat in his voice but no more anger, so Sunwoo walks up to him, slowly, like he's approaching a feral cat.

“I've come to discover this fact since I met you,” he shrugs, smiling wide.

“You're making me misunderstand, that's very cruel of you.”

“What are you misunderstanding?”

Chanhee's eyes are unwavering, but he looks fragile. He's beautiful and Sunwoo wonders sometimes if he's a fairy, because his lips look like rose petals, his nose like a bud, and his eyes like gemstones. But he doesn't like how he feels like Chanhee is going to fly away at the least gust of wind like he is ready to crumble.

Instead of answering, he hands him the shopping bag he has been holding all this time, and Sunwoo looks at it curiously. “What is it?”

“Shoes. You look like you need new ones.”

His infatuation shatters to billions of pieces.

Shame washes over Sunwoo and he glares at his feet, clenching his fists by his side. The ones he's wearing tonight are part of his work uniform and are still in a good state, but he knows Chanhee is thinking about the old converse shoes he wears every day. He's suddenly reminded of their differences and it makes his skin crawl. He thinks about Chanhee looking at his cheap and worn-out clothes without him noticing, he thinks about Chanhee possibly feeling embarrassed to have him stand next to him in public. He thinks about Chanhee going out of his way to buy him new shoes to make him worthy of being his friend. And suddenly, Sunwoo is the one who feels like screaming.

He stares at the logo on the shopping bag the other is still holding before him. It isn't just any brand, and it only serves to make his rage grow bigger.

“Do I look like a charity case to you?” his voice is low and sounds more like a growl than anything.

Chanhee's eyes widen in confusion. “Of course not, it's a gift to a friend from a friend?”

“Do you usually buy designer shoes for your friends?” Sunwoo's nails dig into his palms when the blonde nods, seemingly not understanding the issue. He scoffs. “It's burdensome.”

The word burden makes Chanhee flinch. “Why?”

“Because I feel inferior!” the younger roars, making the other jump and step back, but he stumbles. Sunwoo catches his wrist and pulls him against him, his heart hammering in his chest when he sees how close they actually are from the building's edge.

They stay quiet for a couple of seconds, Chanhee's breath oddly rapid, but Sunwoo's anger doesn't simmer down. He tightens his grip around the blonde's skinny wrist.

“Giving something I can't ever repay isn't friendship, Chanhee, it's possession,” he sneers, their faces only a breath apart.

Chanhee returns his glare, pulling on his wrist and breaking free, before stepping aside. “How hypocritical of you to act all high and mighty with help I didn't ask for when you won't accept it either.” He brutally pushes the bag against Sunwoo's chest with strength, making him stumble back. “I wasn't thoughtful, sorry for that. Do whatever you want with them, sell them or wear them, I don't care.”

With these last words, Chanhee walks away while Sunwoo glares at his back. When the rooftop's door slams behind him, Sunwoo lets out an infuriated scream and throws the shopping bag on the ground.

For a moment he just stays still, trying to get control back over his emotions. He checks the time when he's calmer, he should've been back two minutes ago already. So he bottles everything after a deep breath and picks the bag up, and tries to forget all about the fight while he's working, though his thoughts constantly drift back to the bag he has stuffed into his locker.

*

It takes a few days of Sunwoo glaring at the shopping bag he has put on his small coffee table and never touched afterward for him to stop feeling a frustrated scream bubbling in his throat at its sight. Chanhee hasn't reached out to him at all since their fight, neither did Sunwoo.

Guilt hit him not long after he got home that night. He still doesn't intend to wear the shoes and still feels degraded, but the more his anger subdues, the more he realizes it wasn't fair to lash out on Chanhee. The fight keeps replaying in his mind and it is slowly driving him crazy – he even started to spend his break with his coworkers instead of going back to the rooftop.

He still thinks every one of the words he told Chanhee but regrets losing control and yelling.

It doesn't take Sunwoo a long time to stop being mad at Chanhee – even if his gesture was too burdensome to handle, the intent behind it isn't much different than his own when he's the one trying to help. When he starts thinking rationally again, he realizes that Chanhee was just trying to be caring in his own twisted way and that him noticing his worn-out clothes wasn't out of embarrassment like his shame tried to convince him. Rather, just like how Sunwoo cared enough to pay attention to him and see how he needed help through non-verbal clues, Chanhee also did.

He does understand why his reaction was hypocritical from Chanhee's standpoint.

Sunwoo reached this conclusion soon after the fight. Yet, a few days after, he still can't bring himself to dial his number.

Because when he stops behind mad at Chanhee, he comes to another realization. They are different, they are too different. He feels like he has just woken up drenched in a cold shower and been left with a merciless fear. No matter how he thinks about it, they both belong to different worlds and if he continues walking on this path, he is just going to burn himself.

He isn't dumb enough not to recognize that he has some sort of feelings for Chanhee, not yet romantic feelings, but he is on his merry way there. Sunwoo doesn't blame himself for this attraction that makes his stomach churn because Chanhee is a little like a dream for someone like him. He has everything Sunwoo doesn't have, so he has yet to determine if it is mere intrigue, attraction, or something uglier like wanting to touch something he can't touch, can't have.

He gave up on dreams almost a year ago now, and Chanhee is dangerous for him because whenever they're together, Sunwoo tends to forget about his priorities.

So, he keeps hesitating for a few more days, torn between the way his fingers itch to dial Chanhee's number and go straight into the fire, or forgetting entirely about him and go back on track.

In the end, he makes his decision in the break room of the coffee shop he works at when he's getting ready to leave after finishing his shift, because his mind keeps going back to that one time Chanhee came into the shop and he can't seem to stop burning holes into the shop's entrance, waiting to see if the student will come by. Except he doesn't and Sunwoo is tired of wondering if the boy is doing fine.

No matter how much he tries to focus on earning money for his family, inevitably his mind drifts back to Chanhee. Sometimes he simply worries – did he eat today? Did he get drunk again? Does he sleep well? – other times it's less rational thoughts – the image of the tip of his tongue wetting his pouty lips, his impish smile, his delicate manners.

Sunwoo wants to forget about it all and go back to his life before Chanhee, but he lacks resolve.

In the coffee shop, his very weak resolve breaks when a voice in his head reminds him the student's campus is just around the corner, and for having met with him the week before to hang out, he knows his last class on Thursdays finishes at 5 PM.

The clock indicates 4:55 PM so Sunwoo rushes to gather his stuff and leaves the coffee shop with a distracted goodbye to his coworkers, typing on his phone.

When he's waiting near the gates, he's relentlessly watching the text he just sent to Chanhee to tell him he's waiting for him, growing anxious by the minute when he sees that the boy has yet to see it. But eventually, he does and his phone pings as Chanhee replies with a simple OK.

Sunwoo is restless, not moving his gaze away from the gates. A lump grows at the base of his throat when Chanhee finally comes out and he tries not to chicken out as he notices he isn't alone. Taking a profound breath, he finally walks up to them.

“Chanhee.”

Both he and his friend – who Sunwoo recognizes as one of the guys Chanhee was with that night he made their coincidental meetings into intentional meetings – turn around. Sunwoo blinks at their linked arm before looking up. The blonde is expressionless and now that he's in front of him, he doesn't know what to do with himself nor what to say.

Chanhee's friend stretches a long _oh_ , a grin splitting his small face. “Aren't you that bartender from last time?” he nudges the blonde. “The someone you wanted to bother.”

“Changmin!” Chanhee reacts, whisper-yelling, while said Changmin laughs mischievously and stares up and down at Sunwoo, who feels miserably awkward.

“Suddenly I have an assignment to do at the library,” Changmin wiggles his eyebrows at Sunwoo and then turns back to his friend, “leave before me, I'll call my driver to take me home. See you! Don't be your mean self, 'hee!”

The smaller of the pair before him kisses Chanhee on the cheek and dashes back inside under both of their flabbergasted eyes.

Sunwoo clears his throat.

“Thought you were a fever dream for a hot second,” Chanhee is the first one to speak. He isn't smiling, but he doesn't look mad or annoyed.

He is just as beautiful as usual, but Sunwoo knows by now not to assume it means he is fine. “Sorry, I needed to do some thinking.”

“Didn't I tell you to just live dumbly?”

It draws a snort from Sunwoo and finally, Chanhee gives him a small smile, before sighing. “I'm sorry about last time, I didn't think how it would come across.”

The younger one shakes his head. “I shouldn't have gotten this angry, I'm sorry too.”

“Look at us, I feel like I'm back to elementary school, apologizing like idiots,” Chanhee nudges his arm with his elbow. “So, we're friends again?” Sunwoo hums, feeling a weight lift off his chest. “Great, I think there's a few hours before your shift, want to come to my place to watch something? I'll take you to work.”

Sunwoo easily takes on his offer. He had feared Chanhee wouldn't have let him back without a fight, so he's relieved to be proven wrong. For some reason Sunwoo can't pinpoint, it seems like Chanhee wants him by his side just as much as him.

Having been multiple times in Chanhee's car, Sunwoo imagined his place to be just as disorganized, but it is immaculate. When he voices his thoughts, the blonde laughs. “You have the housekeeper to thank for that.”

Sunwoo tries very hard not to let this remark bring him back to his doubts about their differences and instead goes around Chanhee's apartment, while the latter is moving around in the kitchen.

“Want something to drink? I have coke somewhere, I think.”

“That'd be great, thanks, I desperately need some caffeine.”

Chanhee simply chuckles at that. His apartment is surprisingly lively. Sunwoo somewhat expected it to look like rich people's houses he sees on TV, minimalist and somewhat cold, but his walls are littered with framed pictures and shelves full of books and plants.

“You read a lot,” he remarks when Chanhee comes back with drinks and sets them on the coffee table.

“I used to get bored a lot when I was younger,” he shrugs, sitting on the couch and Sunwoo joins him, “all my brothers are way older than me, so I didn't have many children to play with when I wasn't at school, and then I just never stopped.”

Sunwoo hums. “I guess chaebol kids don't go play soccer in the streets with their neighbors.”

“No, but do you see me play any sports, be honest,” Chanhee laughs wholeheartedly and Sunwoo mirrors him.

“Point taken.”

The blonde starts a random Hollywood movie he finds on Netflix while Sunwoo quickly sets an alarm not to lose track of time. He has no idea if Chanhee has noticed how close they're sitting, only a very thin space between them preventing their shoulders from touching, though the couch is big enough that if he were to lie down his feet probably wouldn't touch the other end, but he doesn't protest. Sunwoo can smell the other's scent – powdery and sweet – and he completely misses the beginning of the movie because he's too distracted by this. He smells both delicate and strong and Sunwoo doesn't know what to do with himself because it shouldn't be possible. It's just that it's soft, the same kind of soft that a flannelette blanket can be, but also elegant and enticing like what flower shops smell like. And mostly, it's tenacious in the way it won't let Sunwoo focus on something else.

Chanhee quietly comments on the movie but looks at him when he only hums, not having even heard what he said. He seems startled to be met with Sunwoo's eyes. “Are you even watching?”

Sunwoo clears his throat. “Of course!”

The blonde looks skeptical but thankfully doesn't insist, while he feels his ears burn at having been caught unabashedly staring.

They're about halfway through the movie when Sunwoo loses his focus again because Chanhee moved in a more comfortable position, gathering his knees against his chest and leaving him with one annoying thought. He looks incredibly small. And it's driving him crazy.

He has always had a thing for everything small. Small animals, small children, even small objects, make him want to protect them. Though it's not the first time he has felt this urge to protect Chanhee, he feels like the urge is choking him at the moment, because the blonde, he has come to learn, rarely lets himself look this relaxed in front of someone else. He looks vulnerable, fully focused on the TV like so, with his lips just slightly parted and his soft eyebrows a bit creased. Sunwoo realizes at that moment that Chanhee is always controlling his expressions and it dawns on him only because he's never seen him so carefree. He looks smaller than usual because, at this moment that feels out of time, he looks like a real human again – someone who has just as many weaknesses as strengths, instead of something distantly powerful and unattainable. He looks like a simple rock instead of a mountain.

Sunwoo feels himself smile when Chanhee bursts into laughter, covering his mouth with a delicate hand. The corners of his eyes are creased beautifully and he slightly leans sideways into Sunwoo, who feels his heart swell and tells himself that he's so far gone at this point that it's becoming ridiculous, yet he doesn't have it in himself to dwell on it.

The older boy taps Sunwoo's thigh, commenting on the scene, but when he notices the younger isn't following his laughter, he looks at him. His glee subdues slowly when their eyes meet, but his features are still animated with amusement. There's a floating moment during which Sunwoo can do nothing but keep on watching, taking in the sight of this new emotion he sees on Chanhee, while the latter blinks at him.

“You're not watching the movie at all, are you?” he doesn't look offended and even chuckles.

Sunwoo swallows, his throat oddly dry. “We both know the answer to that,” he says and surprises himself with how hoarse his voice sounds, so he clears his throat, embarrassed.

Chanhee leans forward with cat-like grace until both his hands are resting on the couch's backrest, on each side of Sunwoo's head, while the latter leans back to become one with the couch. “There you go, causing me to misunderstand again.”

Honestly, he has no idea where he finds the courage to follow the blonde on the path he's leading him to. “What if it's not a misunderstanding?” He feels his heart pulse everywhere in his body, his temples, his neck, his fingertips, and even his toes.

Chanhee is again in total control of his face, but Sunwoo easily sees his pupils shake even when he sports his usual impish rictus, and for a second, he rapidly blinks at him like he can't hold his gaze. He tries to hide that he's also affected by their closeness but Sunwoo is becoming good at picking at his cracks.

“I,” Chanhee starts but cuts himself off, breathing in harshly, and suddenly losing all his bravado. “I'm asking just to make sure, but you're aware I'm a guy, right?”

It has the merit of shattering the moment. Sunwoo frowns, confused, and scans the blonde's face to find some sort of explanation. “Yes? This is very out-of-the-pocket, not going to lie.”

Chanhee looks relieved and nods a few times, sliding his hands from the backrest to Sunwoo's shoulders – the latter feels like a forest is growing in his stomach when he feels his delicate fingers clench around the fabric of his sweatshirt. Instinctively, Sunwoo's own hands fly to his waist. “Good. Because I've wanted to kiss you for a while now but I don't know how you feel about me having a dick.”

Sunwoo wants to say many things at once, like inform Chanhee about his raging bisexuality, perhaps make a joke about how dick isn't a very pretty word to use in this rom-com worthy situation, or voice his surprise at how unusually honest he is being. But eventually, he can only croak out one pathetic thing. “You want to kiss me?”

It makes Chanhee chuckle softly. “Can I?”

Sunwoo doesn't answer but once again does what his guts tell him to do. He pulls on the blonde's waist to bring him closer and surges forward to crash their lips together.

The pent-up want that he has felt bubbling in his stomach ever since he sat on Chanhee's couch explodes at once when he tastes his lips, and the other reciprocates promptly. Sunwoo knows the second the tip of the blonde's tongue grazes over his bottom lip that there's no turning back for him, that now that he knows how it feels to kiss him, he won't be able to keep himself from wanting more. The quiet mewl Chanhee breathes into his mouth fills his lungs heavenly, and the nails that softly scratch the fragile skin behind his ear send a shiver through his body that makes his toes curl.

Sunwoo brings Chanhee even closer to him until they're flushed against each other and the blonde is fully sitting on his lap.

Chanhee viciously nibbles on his lip, making it sting in the best way. “Your lips have been driving me crazy,” he whispers against Sunwoo's mouth secretively, licking it again to emphasize his words.

“Yeah?” his voice is so husky the single syllable barely makes it past his mouth. Sunwoo watches with droopy eyes Chanhee look at his lips, his gaze half-lidded. He brushes his thumb against the younger boy's plump bottom lip, glossy with spit.

“I can't stop thinking about them.” His thumb still playing with his reddened lips, he leans forward again to kiss the corner of his mouth once, then twice. Sunwoo sighs and his eyes fall shut, tilting his head backward when Chanhee mouths at his jawline, sending another shudder to all his extremities.

He doesn't know when one of his hands sneaked under Chanhee's shirt. He rubs circles against the dimples in his lower back, exhaling another long and content breath as he feels how soft and hot his skin is under his fingertips. Sunwoo's other hand, resting between the blonde's protruding shoulder blades, pushes him even further against himself if it is possible when he feels his teeth lightly bite the flesh under his jaw.

Sunwoo's breath catches in his throat and Chanhee lets out a gasp, his fingers clenching almost painfully around his shoulder when the latter accidentally thrusts his hips against the younger boy's crotch.

In this short moment of aroused stillness, their bubble shatters mercilessly when Sunwoo's phone suddenly rings loudly to signal them he needs to go to work and they startle violently.

With a shaky hand, he turns his alarm off, and lets his head fall against the backrest, his eyes closed. “I feel like I'm going to cry.”

Chanhee rests his forehead against his collarbones, not moving an inch, but he hears him laugh pitifully.

Sunwoo feels shaky, light-headed, and like his heart is about to break his rib cage from how hard and fast it's beating. Petulantly, he wants to ditch work and stay here with Chanhee, even though he knows it's not happening.

After a while where they just stay in this position, Sunwoo still rubbing circles into Chanhee's lower back and Chanhee's breath fanning over the skin of Sunwoo's collarbones, peeking from his collar, the blonde eventually straightens up – carefully supporting himself on his knees so he won't ignite the fire again. “Whatever happens on the road while I'm driving in this state is not my responsibility but yours, are we clear?”

Sunwoo laughs and nods, wrapping his hands around Chanhee's waist to lift him off his lap. He steals one last kiss from him before getting up, flowers blooming in his chest when he squeaks surprised and pink dusts his cheekbones.

*

Like that, two weeks go by with them settling back into the routine they had started to create before their fight. Nothing has changed really, except that the both of them automatically go to the other whenever they find free time in their usual schedule. Sunwoo gave back Chanhee's gift, this time with a smile and gently, before asking him to drive him to the mall. “I do need to buy shoes, but let's buy from a brand I can afford,” he explained in response to Chanhee's lost face. He let him pay because he was visibly happy to do something for him, even if guilt immediately crept up under his skin when he watched him give his card to the cashier. But he managed not to say a thing, enduring it by convincing the blonde to at least let him pay for their coffee afterward.

They still playfully push and pull each other in, but little by little, Sunwoo finds comfort in their dynamic and he thinks Chanhee does as well. After their first and heated first kiss, they exchanged plenty of other kisses, chaster and softer, sometimes their hands locked and they found themselves unable to let go, and Sunwoo learned of how sweet having Chanhee nestled against him felt. But neither of them ever tries to talk about this slight shift between them, and Sunwoo doesn't think any of them is ready to voice out their feelings just yet. Even if the time they spend together looks like dates, they won't say they're dating, even if they kiss, they won't say they're boyfriends. Even if Sunwoo does feel the need to stay by Chanhee's side, he isn't sure he likes him yet.

In many ways, the blonde feels like a sour candy – whenever Sunwoo tastes it, he winces, has the urge to spit it out because he's not entirely used to the way it feels on his tongue, but after he swallows it, he can't help to put another one in his mouth. He looks gentle and cute, but he's mean and fierce. He's incredibly pretty and perfect, but his insides are full of ugly scars and bitter feelings. His voice sounds like the whistle that crystal glasses make when you circle a fingertip against its rim, but his tone can be biting and his words harsh.

And just like sour candy, he doesn't think he likes this odd sensation, but he inevitably goes back to it, until he is left with his tongue red and numb.

Both of them have too much on their plates to commit to the other, anyway. So, instead of making promises and telling out loud words they are not convinced of their sincerity, they let themselves go with the flow and don't question what it is they are doing.

It would be naive to think that because they've been doing good for a couple of weeks now, that just them being together prevents lows from happening, though. Sunwoo is still overworking himself to tend to his family's needs most of the time while refusing Chanhee's help, and Chanhee still is dangerously carefree about alcohol, often when he's left alone with his thoughts but mostly when he meets his family. At least, he doesn't go home with random guys and simply stays at the counter of the bar where Sunwoo is, despite his nagging. He doesn't ever share his dark thoughts nor his family business, but Sunwoo is content just being able to keep a watch on him.

Tonight Sunwoo assumes that Chanhee is peacefully sleeping or speed-writing a paper at home until he gets a call.

It's close to midnight and he's getting ready to leave, leaving his boss to close the bar, when Chanhee calls him. “Hello?” he immediately answers, puzzled.

“Sunwoo!”

He has heard too many times now the drawl that Chanhee's voice becomes whenever he drinks not to recognize it right away. He merely said his name, but it's almost as if he blew a puff of breath that smells like alcohol to his face. “You drank,” he states, his voice even despite how his heart sinks into his stomach.

Chanhee doesn't confirm nor deny, not that Sunwoo needs it anyway. Instead, he chuckles darkly and then sniffles in the phone, “Can you come get me?” and the younger boy's heart breaks when he hears the strain in his tone.

He heaves a sigh. “Where are you?”

“Rooftop.” Sunwoo freezes, not liking the way he sounds, but after a second he's taking big strides out of the bar.

His legs never stop bouncing while he waits for the Uber he called, keeping Chanhee over the phone. He forces him to talk about nothings, keeps him distracted while he anxiously keeps an eye out for the car. He nearly jumps inside when it finally pulls over in front of him, offering a crooked smile to the driver, and when it has barely come to a stop at his destination he's already out.

“They want to send me to America,” Chanhee says over the phone when Sunwoo is getting in the elevator. He was telling an anecdote about Changmin, but he changed the subject halfway.

He swallows, sensing that what Chanhee is saying is suddenly more serious. “Who?”

“My parents.”

“Why?”

Sunwoo's eyes never leave the screen above the elevator's doors, watching the floor number change way too slowly.

“I think my brother told them I'm gay,” Sunwoo's breath catches in his throat, and Chanhee pauses. “I was always a burden to them but they never tried to send me away, so I can't think of another reason why now.”

He feels like he's going to cry when the elevator finally reaches the last floor and all but run the last flight of stairs that leads to the rooftop. “Wouldn't you like it, going to the states?” he asks at the same time he opens the door.

Chanhee is sitting on the building's edge, his legs dangling over the guardrail. “That's weird, right? Why am I not happy about leaving?”

Sunwoo hangs up when he's only a step behind the blonde and instantly wraps his arms around him, trying not to look down, already feeling sick at the height that separates them from the city. Chanhee startles violently but relaxes when he realizes it's Sunwoo and leans back against his chest.

Sunwoo wonders if Chanhee can feel how fast his heartbeat is. “Sunwoo, I think I really don't want to leave.”

“Because you're scared to go over there alone or because it's not you who chose to?”

“Both.”

Sunwoo takes a deep breath, his nose nuzzled in the crown of his head. He doesn't voice it, but the idea of Chanhee leaving feels like a weight on his shoulder, it's not his call to make but he doesn't want him to go.

“I'm scared,” the blonde murmurs, bringing a bottle that Sunwoo didn't notice he was holding to his lips. He gently takes the bottle away from Chanhee's hands before he can't drink from it and for once the latter doesn't protest, simply sighing and tilting his head back to rest it on Sunwoo's shoulder, looking up at him. “I hate you.”

“No, you don't. You're going to kill yourself at this rate if you keep this up.” He doesn't like the tight-lipped smile Chanhee gives at that.

“Well, perhaps that's what I'm aiming for.”

A ball of nerves chokes Sunwoo and crushes his vocal cords, even blocks his airways. He tightens his hold around Chanhee's body and the latter finally diverts his eyes, staring down at the luminous city. “Come on, let's get you somewhere safer,” the younger boy says when he stops feeling like swallowing is painful.

But the other shakes his head. “Don't worry, I'm not going to jump. If I do, there's no chance of survival. In all the scenarios I've imagined, I'm always leaving a chance for someone to find me and save me.”

It doesn't make Sunwoo worry any less, but he doesn't stop Chanhee from talking, because despite the fact he easily notices the many ways he expresses that he's not doing well, he never admits it. He never outwardly tells him what's going on exactly. “Are you scared to die?”

“I'm scared of the aftermath,” Chanhee corrects, putting his hands over Sunwoo's arm that is still firmly wrapped around him, and brushing the skin of his forearm with his thumbs. “Waking up and seeing the guilt in people's eyes, as if they never expected this. Not waking up and people claiming they loved me and mourning me.”

Sunwoo squeezes him tighter against himself, speechless, burying his nose behind his ear – he smells just as sweet and ethereal as ever, but this time it makes him want to cry.

“More stupid stuff, like the embarrassment of people finding my dildo collection when they have to empty my place,” Chanhee says, with a more lighthearted tone, and Sunwoo lets out a wet laugh.

“You really have a knack for timing when it comes to saying out-of-the-pocket nonsense.”

“I'm serious, it's huge and there's some crazy stuff in there!”

Sunwoo feels like this sudden misplaced burst of laughter is for the both of them a way to ease the tension after Chanhee's confessions. Because Sunwoo is helpless, powerless as long as the other isn't ready to help himself, and because he senses the embarrassment that seeps out of Chanhee's body. The blonde must be slowly sobering up the longer they talk.

A couple of minutes go by like that during which they stay silent and listen to each other's breath and the roar of the city below them.

“I'm glad you told me all that,” Sunwoo says eventually.

“I shouldn't have dumped it on you, I'm sorry,” Chanhee, however, answers.

“You did good, even if I can't do much, now that it's out there you can't bottle it all up and pretend you don't have a problem.”

“Can you ask me to stay in Korea so I feel like I have an excuse when I decide to reject the offer?”

Selfishly it makes him happy to know Chanhee wants to stay. “You know, not wanting to go just because you don't want to, even if there's no reason, is a valid enough excuse.”

“Please.”

Sunwoo breathes through his nose and kisses Chanhee's temple, but indulges him. “Stay with me, please.”

“Thank you.”

“Let's get you home now.”

This time, Chanhee comes with him. Sunwoo feels his heartbeat finally slowing down when they're further from the rooftop's edge. The blonde's eyes are puffy, his lashes wet and the tip of his nose red when he faces him. The younger wipe the remnants of his tears on his cheeks with the pad of his thumb and hugs him back when he dives into his arms, entangling his fingertips into his silky hair.

“Can you stay?” Chanhee asks, his face hidden in the crook of his neck.

Sunwoo deeply breathes in the other's dizzying scent. “I'm not leaving anywhere.”

“I don't want to sleep alone.”

“I'm not leaving anywhere,” he repeats and feels him nod.

Sunwoo drives them home, having no choice but to fish for Chanhee's car key in his jacket. His palms are clammy the whole ride because it has been a long time since he last drove a car and he never ever fathomed the thought that one day he would drive a crazy expensive car like this one.

Chanhee stays quiet during the ride, staring through the window. A misty rain started to pour over the city and the raindrops on the window reflect the streetlight, making his eyes glow with rainbows.

“What if my brother really did tell my parents that I'm gay? It's not like he's not able to,” he eventually speaks up, his voice so small Sunwoo nearly misses it.

He glances at him, frowning. “Did they imply anything?”

“No, but I'm scared.”

“What's going to happen if they know?”

The blonde shrugs. “I don't know, they won't kick me out because it would bring attention. Send me away by force? Maybe have me marry some rich daughter?”

He sounds tired, too tired to put emotions in his voice, but Sunwoo hears a tremble in his voice.

“You're an adult, Chanhee,” Sunwoo says, eventually, “if you don't want to, you don't have to.”

“It's not that easy, I can't really negotiate with them, they have more cards in their game than I do.”

The younger doesn't find anything to answer for a while, choosing to blindly find Chanhee's hand on his lap and squeeze it before putting both his hands back on the steering wheel. “I know it's not easy,” he says after a while when he's parking in the lot of Chanhee's apartment complex. “It's not going to stop being scary, to be honest, because honestly, whatever could happen.” The blonde looks at him with glossy eyes and Sunwoo gives a thin smile. “You're not that weak and powerless, you know?” Leaning towards the passenger seat, he cups Chanhee's small face. “Perhaps you don't have many good cards in your game, but you can win by bluffing. No matter what happens, I'll stand by your side, okay?”

Chanhee rapidly blinks and a few tears spill on his cheeks, but Sunwoo catches them all. “I don't want to be rejected by them anymore,” he admits, his voice breaking with a sob.

“I'll protect you,” Sunwoo promises, determined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom) / [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thinks about the night before, about him violently throwing up all the alcohol he drank as soon as they got home and Sunwoo rubbing his back comfortingly, with a glass of water ready. Sunwoo sleepily resting his forehead between his shoulder blades, while Chanhee is heaving, struggling to catch his breath, and begging him to stop doing this to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! there's a scene in this chapter where chanhee learns he was outed and his family is Not kind about it + graphic depiction (ig?) of the very ugly, absolutely not edgy side of mental illnesses that is very often not told about + reminder to mind the tags

Chanhee wakes up listening to Sunwoo's peaceful heartbeat. A headache threatens to split his head into halves, but the lull of the soft pulse against his ear and the quiet breath that fans his hair ease it slightly. He doesn't want to move just yet, so he doesn't.

He thinks about the night before, about him violently throwing up all the alcohol he drank as soon as they got home and Sunwoo rubbing his back comfortingly, with a glass of water ready. Sunwoo sleepily resting his forehead between his shoulder blades, while Chanhee is heaving, struggling to catch his breath, and begging him to stop doing this to himself.

He thinks about the words that nearly made his heart blow up and destroy everything in its surroundings, _I'm not leaving anywhere, I'll stand by your side, I'll protect you_. Words that usually he would've dismissed as empty promises, but that in the very short time they have spent together, Sunwoo has already acted on.

Sunwoo, broody and witty Sunwoo, who makes him feel like he has finally found a shelter after many years walking in the pouring rain with a broken umbrella.

Often he makes him feel like shit. Chanhee knows that he is a mess, a selfish and egotistic mess at that, because while he spends his days wallowing in self-pity, Sunwoo never stumbles, never cracks. He is a tree that never budges despite the continuous storms sent his way. He keeps giving and giving and giving selflessly, he who has nothing but his humanity, to someone who has everything.

But Chanhee is selfish, and though he knows he doesn't deserve the care Sunwoo has for him, he doesn't want to let go. So he doesn't. He wants to give him everything he has, but ever since the night he tried to, he feels too anxious to stretch a hand towards him. He doesn't want Sunwoo to realize he should leave him alone.

He clenches a fist around the fabric of the white cotton shirt he lent to Sunwoo, as if to hold onto him, even if he's sleeping like a rock and not about to leave anywhere.

It dawns on Chanhee then, as he feels the other's scorching hot skin against his under the blanket where their bare legs are intertwined and thinks he never wants to leave this warmth, that he likes Sunwoo.

He stops listening to his heartbeat, raising himself on his elbows to look at the younger. He looks like a kid like that when neither his serious scowl nor his manly mirth animates his face. Chanhee traces with his fingertip his straight eyebrows that always give him a somewhat angry look, then his prominent nose, his sort of droopy eyes that make him look like a raccoon, he pauses on his long lashes that always make his gaze deeper, and finally, he stops at his lips. His lips never fail to draw in Chanhee's infatuated looks, that look like cherries, that he wants to kiss for hours on end.

Sunwoo scrunches his nose when Chanhee's fingers seem to tickle him awake, his eyes fluttering open. He groggily stares at him for a moment, while the blonde greets him with a tired smile and doesn't stop tracing his lips with his index.

Chanhee chuckles when the younger puckers his lips to peck the pad of his finger before grinning, sneaking his large hands around his waist to bring him closer and kissing him, softly, gently. Chanhee feels his entire body tingle.

He has never felt this loved, this cared about.

“Hm, morning breath,” he protests though, pushing his hands against Sunwoo's chest to sit up with a peeved air.

Sunwoo merely laughs. “Good morning.”

Automatically, Chanhee chooses to flee when he feels fondness bubble in his chest and a confession ready to spill past his lips, and only hums in response, getting out of bed. “I'm going to make coffee, come when you're ready, sleepyhead.”

Sunwoo joins him quickly enough in the kitchen, looking both quite ridiculous and heavenly with his bed hair, the pillow marks on his cheek, and the white shirt and gray sweatpants Chanhee lent him that fits him a little too tight.

“What time is it?” the younger asks when he sits down at his kitchen table, in front of Chanhee, immediately taking a sip of his coffee. The blonde laughs when he sees him wince as he finds out the beverage is still hot.

“About to be nine.” It's Wednesday, so Sunwoo has thankfully the morning off and Chanhee's first class is still in an hour because they both entirely forgot to set an alarm. “I don't think I'll be able to drop you off today if I don't want to be late for my lecture. I should probably get ready,” he affirms, yet doesn't move and Sunwoo snorts when he notices it.

Like this, in this setting, Chanhee feels like Sunwoo is entirely his. It feels like a punch in the guts when he realizes he wants every one of his morning to look like this.

Ten minutes later, the same feeling comes back even stronger, as they brush their teeth next to each other over his bathroom sink and Chanhee is looking at Sunwoo through the mirror, doing more looking than brushing.

Mornings have never felt this good, he hates them, but he thinks he can come to like them if they start to look like that.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sunwoo wakes him up from his daydreams when he is done rinsing his mouth and Chanhee is dumbly holding his toothbrush in his mouth, motionless. When he looks back at himself in the mirror, he is beet-red, so he nearly dives into the sink, while the other cackles, leaving the room.

He is in deep shit. Because all these raging thoughts are very unlike him and he feels like he's losing control again.

Chanhee isn't a control freak per se, after all, he does tend to forget to put things back in their original spot, but he likes to be the one to decide what to do, how to act, where to go, and what happens to him.

So after he's done washing his face with freezing water to put back some senses into his brain, which seems to have stopped functioning properly ever since he has met Sunwoo, he makes a decision.

When he walks back into his spacious living room with large strides, Sunwoo is putting his jacket on, fully dressed. He still looks kind of like a bird fallen the nest, especially when he raises a puzzled eyebrow at him. “Is going to class in pajamas your next big fashion moment?”

“I like you.”

The sudden confession hangs in the air for a long second that stretches into nearly a full minute, and as Sunwoo just gapes at him, speechless, Chanhee is starting to regret his impulsive decision. But eventually, Sunwoo smiles softly yet somewhat apologetically and walks up to him. A sour taste starts to fill his mouth and his eyes start to sting when the other kisses his forehead but still doesn't answer.

“You should get ready, you're going to be late, okay?”

He feels disregarded, rejected, and abandoned all at once, and anger spikes up inside him. “You're going to ignore me?”

“No, but I have nothing to answer yet. I don't want to lie and I don't want you to say things you're mistaken about.”

Chanhee stares dumbfounded at Sunwoo's back when he turns around to walk to the door. “What do you mean I'm mistaken?” he hears how high-pitched his voice has become with his offense.

Sunwoo sighs and looks back at him, pursing his lips. “Do you like me or are you grateful for last night? I don't want to take a confession that comes when you're the most vulnerable, and you shouldn't let the door so openly wide for people to use you.”

Chanhee does what he does best when he feels ashamed and fiercely glares at him, frustration crawling under his skin because he feels like he's back in front of the Sunwoo who tried to keep from having sex with someone under the influence of alcohol, the first time he visited him at his workplace. He does the most rational thing he can't think of to express his annoyance and grabs his slipper to throw it Sunwoo, who avoids it and looks at him defiantly.

“You're infuriating! I told you to live dumbly! I hate you!”

“No, you don't. Go get ready Chanhee, your first class starts in twenty minutes.”

And he leaves like that, leaving him fuming and alone in his living room. “Pretentious asshole!” he screams at his door, letting out a scream and stomping his feet.

In the end, he does decide to create a fashion moment by going to class in his pajamas, and it's absolutely not because he spent ten more minutes throwing a temper tantrum for no one to watch.

“This fit is acceptable only because your pajamas could buy lunch to our entire year group, but it's objectively ridiculous, I hope you're aware,” Changmin welcomes him, judgment visible in his eyes.

Chanhee all but barks at him. “With confidence, you can rule over the world!”

*

It unnerves him but Chanhee does what Sunwoo told him to do and thinks. Once he stops being annoyed at him and his infatuation lets its place to something more realistic, he starts to want to yell at himself for being so sensitive. He has always done a good job at concealing his emotions and showing only what people couldn't use against him, but he has found himself unable to do the same when it comes to Sunwoo.

It takes him three days before he stops sulking and goes back to him. The first day he just fumes, barely able to focus on his lectures as he stares holes into his laptop screen instead of taking notes. Chanhee keeps replaying Sunwoo's rejection, still fresh in his mind and wants to bite his head off when he sees his apologetic smile and defiant look just as he's about to leave his apartment. He feels like he looked down on him and there's one thing Chanhee cannot stand: not being taken seriously. But at the end of the day, he slowly comes to admit to himself that he is not sad, nor heartbroken, but he feels like a child whose friend refused to play the same game with him. It makes him madder.

So, okay, perhaps he spontaneously decided to confess to make himself think he has the upper hand.

“If you're going to kiss me and be all lovey-dovey, of course I'm going to be confused,” he mumbles to himself, grumpily rejecting the fault onto Sunwoo.

“Who's kissing you?” Younghoon's voice startles him awake from his thoughts and when he looks up he's faced with his friends' curious eyes. They're studying together for their incoming midterm exams at the library. Chanhee didn't have any intention to get any closer to them after that one night out a month prior, but Changmin jumped on the opportunity to drag him to their hang-outs, claiming he needed more friends.

He clears his throat and slouches his back to hide his face behind his laptop, feeling himself get red in the face.

Sunwoo has been a cataclysm to many changes in Chanhee's life, whether he was directly involved in these changes or not.

“I'm starting to think someone abducted my best friend and replaced him with an alien,” Changmin says next to him, immune to Chanhee's glare. Kevin snickers behind his hand, Haknyeon watches the scene with an amused air, munching on an apple, and Younghoon snorts while Juyeon tentatively pats the blonde's back.

“You're an idiot,” Chanhee spits at his best friend who simply grins devilishly.

“Coming here in pajamas and now mumbling about romantic stuff is not very like you,” Changmin declares, wrapping his arms around the blonde's head and bringing him into his chest, petting his hair. “Here, here, my baby, what's going on? You can tell daddy everything.”

Their other friends burst into laughter around the table.

“Why are you so weird?” Chanhee whines into Changmin's shirt, but he stays there. “Why am _I_ being so weird? I'm losing control over my life, Changmin.”

“Two things: you were always weird and you've never been in control of your life,” his best friend teases him. The others have stopped paying attention to them, instead going back to their notes. Chanhee breaks free and sends him a dirty look.

“You're the worst dad!” It sends the squirrel-looking boy into a laughing fit.

“Reminder that we're in a library,” Juyeon nicely whispers to them, and it urges them back on their studying.

When they're in Chanhee's car, before Changmin gets out as one of his family's domestics opens the door for him, he looks back at his friend. “I can see there's something unusual going on with you. You know that if you have a hard time figuring something out I can help you find the answer, right?”

The blonde sighs and nods, feeling miserable for not telling a word about Sunwoo to Changmin. “Of course, goodnight Changmin.”

The latter stretches his arm out to rub his palm against the back of Chanhee's hand. “Goodnight. Sleep early tonight, okay?”

The second day, Chanhee ponders on both Changmin and Sunwoo's words. He can easily admit that confessing his feelings on a whim was a bad idea, especially now that he has fallen off the highs that feeling cared about had brought him to and he isn't so sure of his feelings anymore.

In the end, he tells Changmin when they're eating lunch between two classes. He tells him everything, from how he met Sunwoo, each one of the minutes they spent together, to the morning before.

“This Sunwoo guy is weird,” Changmin concludes after Chanhee is done talking, frowning at his plate.

“I know right! Why would he act all boyfriend with me if he's going to reject me afterward?”

“No, that's not what I mean, I agree with him even,” his best friend shakes his head, looking deep in thoughts. “I wonder why he's taking care of you so much when he should despise you, honestly speaking.”

The blonde blinks at his friend, puzzled. “Why would he hate me?”

“Oh my poor, poor sheltered friend,” Changmin sighs, slightly condescending and Chanhee pouts, irritated. “Think about it rationally two seconds, okay? He's working three part-time jobs instead of going to college and you get to do all the things he can't? I would resent you if I was in his shoes.”

Chanhee heaves a sigh. “Don't worry, I resent myself for the both of us.”

“That's not where I'm trying to get, Chanhee,” Changmin rolls his eyes at his pitiful look. “What's weird is that it looks like your boy might not be as righteous as he makes himself to be. You're clinging onto him because he's taking care of you and you like that, that's a fact, but I think he's clinging onto you just as much.”

Chanhee stops chewing, confused. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, in some way or another, you must make him feel good because he sure isn't willing to let you go. He was probably sincere when he rejected your confession and he was right, but I think there's something more to it.”

“What?”

Changmin rests his elbows on the table between them, leaning in as if to share a secret. “I think he's scared, Chanhee. I don't think he will just say he likes you back if you tell him again after some thinking, he's buying time, even if I think he does like you.”

“Scared? Of what?” He feels almost robbed, he confided in his friend to have answers but he feels like he's left with more unanswered questions the more he talks.

“Have you tried to do something for him? Except for the shoes I mean, something more concrete, that shows him he can trust you as much as you trust him? Because let me tell you something, you're the one with the power to destroy him in this relationship.”

Chanhee gapes at Changmin who smirks satisfied at the look of understanding on his face and leans back on his chair, finishing his meal.

It feels like a wake-up call. Like something is clicking in his mind and finally, he has obtained the last and most important piece of a very intricate puzzle.

On the third day, he stops thinking about himself and starts thinking about Sunwoo. Dread fills his stomach when he remembers the latter's reaction to the shoes he tried to gift him, even if he does know already that it had been out of place, he knows to what extent now. These shoes equaled in money to a couple of months without worrying if his family ate properly, Sunwoo couldn't have worn them, it wasn't a simple matter of being able to ever pay him back.

Chanhee ultimately decides that it doesn't matter yet if he likes Sunwoo or is only grateful to him, so he pushes the question in the back of his mind and musters the courage to show his shameful face to Sunwoo. As long as he hasn't figured out how to make him feel as safe as he does when they're together, he won't burden him with feelings neither Chanhee nor Sunwoo are ready to commit to anyway.

For once, he doesn't bother Sunwoo at work and instead waits at 2 AM in front of the bar where he works on Friday nights.

“Hey, pretty boy!” Chanhee calls when he spots him, looking tired. He snaps his head towards him with owlish eyes. “Want a free ride home?”

“Chanhee, what are you doing here?”

“Getting my friend home, obviously, come on, hop in!”

He chuckles when Sunwoo doesn't move an inch, gawking at him. So he pulls on his arm and drags him to the passenger seat.

“I promise I don't have bad intentions, just thought you could save some money instead of calling a taxi.”

“Well, you did say you were ready to kidnap me, once,” Sunwoo finally wakes up from his daze, buckling his safety belt. Chanhee feels giddy when he skips to the driver's side – he did miss the younger boy's broodiness.

“Type in your address.”

“We're not going at yours?”

“I told you, I'm no kidding driving you home,” Chanhee scoffs, glancing at the GPS and starting the engines, then wiggling his eyebrows at Sunwoo. “Unless you want me to take you with me and do bad things to you.”

He gets a flick on the forehead. “No thanks, I really want to sleep.”

“That's what I thought.”

The ride is quiet, and he thinks the other is sleeping until Sunwoo speaks again. “Were you doing well the past few days?”

Chanhee's heart melts a little – even when exhaustion is making him slur on his words, he takes time to care for him. He hums. “Got angry a little, did some thinking, realized a few stuff, and decided to stop sulking.”

“Good.”

“Sleep, I'll wake you up when we're home, alright?”

Sunwoo doesn't answer and Chanhee chuckles when he sees that he's seemingly already asleep.

He lives in the hills in the northern suburban area of Seoul, which is quite far even by car, but he drives carefully instead of going faster, feeling himself growing quite tired as well. He knows Sunwoo only works this late at the end of the week, still he realizes the fatigue he must feel when he lives so far from his workplaces, all in more expensive districts.

Sunwoo looks like a lost puppy when he wakes him up, all groggy and confused. Chanhee chuckles before yawning.

“There you go, go greet your bed, you deserve it.”

Sunwoo moans, struggling to keep his eyes open. “You'll be okay driving this late?” he asks after stretching, but Chanhee waves his hand, dismissing his worry.

“If you go home and let me do so as well, yes.”

He looks conflicted but eventually relents, briefly grabbing Chanhee's hand and squeezing it. “Thank you for dropping me off.”

He doesn't drive away immediately when Sunwoo gets out of the car, watching him walk up the stairs to his place.

“If only I could teleport myself,” he groans into his steering wheel when he finally diverts his eyes, trying to get himself to start the engines.

He jumps on his seat when there are two knocks against his window and rolls down his window, surprised to see that Sunwoo is back. “You forgot something?”

“My place isn't big like yours, but do you want to sleep over? Honestly, you look like you're going to fall asleep driving.”

Chanhee gives him a crooked smile, a little embarrassed. “Don't want to bother you, don't worry.”

“I'll be more bothered if you go and cause an accident than if you stay. Well unless you mind sleeping in a single bed instead of your king-sized.”

So, in the end, even if the blonde simply wanted to drop him off, Sunwoo takes him home instead.

*

Chanhee wakes up to the sound of strong knocks against the door. He whines a little, not yet ready to open his eyes. When he tries to pull his blanket over his head, his hand is instead met with a body and he remembers where he is.

Sunwoo is sleeping like a rock behind him, firmly hugging him against himself. Chanhee wants to bath in the warmth of his strong arms some more and he's actually on the verge of falling back asleep, except that the frantic knocks don't stop.

“Sunwoo! Come out!” a masculine voice calls out from outside, making the blonde breathe out an irritated sigh.

He reaches a hand behind him, trying to shake the younger awake. “Sunwoo, wake up before I kill that dude.”

“Hm, five more minutes,” Sunwoo sleepily says, his voice rough and husky, squeezing him even tighter against himself.

“Either you wake up or let me go if you don't want your door broken down.”

Sunwoo protests some more, seemingly oblivious to the ruckus coming from outside his door, but eventually lets him go when Chanhee hits him, and immediately falls back asleep while the blonde gets out of the bed.

He opens the door, grumpy and disheveled.

“There's the coolest car outside, you need to-”

The boy standing outside starts speaking, excited, before cutting himself off when he notices that Sunwoo isn't the one standing before him. Chanhee raises an eyebrow at him.

“Who are you?” he asks, as the other only gawks at him.

“Where's Sunwoo?”

Chanhee glances behind the door at Sunwoo, who's not sleeping anymore but blinking at him with the look of someone who doesn't know what his name is.

“Returning from the dead, I think,” he answers, looking back at the boy, who seems to decide that Chanhee's presence doesn't deserve to be fretted over and pushes him aside to come into Sunwoo's one-room apartment.

It makes Chanhee wonder briefly if Sunwoo often happens to bring boys at home, but it seems a little out of character from him, so he concludes that boy is just odd.

“Wake up, you need to see the car outside!” Sunwoo's friend – probably? – tries to drag the other out of bed, while Chanhee just stands by the door and watches the scene, not knowing what to do. “It's a rich people's car! It's our chance to shine and either steal the car or rob the rich person it belongs to and then redistribute the wealth, Robinhood style!”

Chanhee snorts loudly at his excited torrent of words and the sleepy boy's face, looking like he hasn't processed any of the words.

“What time is it?” Sunwoo asks instead, groggily.

“It's not important, right now!”

“Can I be part of your plans? Sounds fun,” Chanhee interrupts, a teasing smirk splitting his face, when he realizes he is the robbery target. The boy stops pulling on Sunwoo's arm to squint at him, observing his Cheshire cat-like air.

“Depends, what do you think of capitalism?”

The blonde cackles. “It would be hypocritical of me to say that it's a plague to modern society and that we must abolish it.”

“Test: failed, sorry you can't be a part of Sunwoo and I's super cool robbery plan.”

“That's the most stupid conversation I've ever assisted to, you two are a combo that I don't want to see exist,” Sunwoo finally stops them both, fully back to life and sitting up, pillow marks all over his cheek.

Chanhee wonders what is it about barely awake Sunwoo that has this effect on me, but he catches himself thinking he wants to see this sight every day once again.

“Okay, seriously, can you come to take a picture of me by the car? I need it for Instagram reasons,” Sunwoo's friend eventually says the real reason he's here.

Sunwoo gives him an affronted look. “Hyunjun. Are you really making all this noise just for that?”

“Come on, we don't know when it'll be gone.”

“It won't be gone for a while,” Chanhee steps in, closing the door.

The boy whose name is apparently Hyunjun looks at him skeptically. “How do you know that?”

The blonde simply walks over one of the chairs around Sunwoo's kitchen table to rummage through the pocket of his jacket and picking his car keys, before waving them at Hyunjun. “Because hopefully, Sunwoo won't kick me out before giving me something to eat.”

He watches, amused, understanding wash over his face and quickly enough, a blush. Hyunjun's eyes travel between Chanhee and Sunwoo. “You have a sugar daddy?” he all but yells at his friend's face, who chokes on air, while the blonde bursts into laughter.

“What nonsense is this now?”

Fifteen minutes later, Hyunjun is still scrutinizing Chanhee, unconvinced of him not being a sugar daddy, while Sunwoo sets a pot filled with steaming cheese ramen in the middle of the table. The blonde eyes them doubtfully when they dig in the pot, eating from it directly.

“Eat up, you said you wanted to eat,” Sunwoo urges him on, taking his chopsticks to Chanhee's mouth and feeding him, despite his hesitant look. In front of him, it's Hyunjun who is now sporting a teasing smile on his face.

“What? Rich people don't eat instant ramen?” Sunwoo's friend asks with his mouth full.

Chanhee scrunches up his nose. “I do, but usually not at 8 AM.”

“Welcome to the world of regular people who are too lazy to cook a proper meal,” Sunwoo wiggles his eyebrows at him, with his usual shit-eating grin, despite his biting words. He grabs the bowl in front of Chanhee and fills it with noodles, under Hyunjun's judging gaze. “Here, eat before it gets cold.”

“Jesus, I feel like I'm watching a rom-com.”

Later, when Chanhee drops Sunwoo off at the coffee shop and the latter pecks him on the mouth by reflex before getting out of the car, he thinks they both are playing a dangerous game. But as long as he keeps him by his side, as long as he can spend many more mornings in Sunwoo's routine, he can will himself not to rush him to put words onto what it is they're doing.

He thinks about stories where a prince charming finds a disgraced princess and makes her a queen to possess her.

Chanhee decides one thing: he doesn't want to take Sunwoo away from his current life and promise him treasures, he wants them to meet halfway.

*

For a short while, Chanhee feels like his head is not buzzing constantly with undesired thoughts and at some point, he realizes that more and more he thinks about a future for himself. Future has for a long time been a scary idea to him who has settled with letting each day go by instead of striving for a goal, even as small as accomplishing something the next day. And he feels it, the shift inside him.

But as he's sitting in his father's office after an agonizingly long family dinner, he learns that it is not because he's distracted that what he is looking away from will magically disappear. He feels like has taken only one sip of happiness before getting it ripped off his hands.

Chanhee has always disliked this office. Most of the furniture is made of ebony and it's cold, imposing; he feels small whenever he's sitting in one of the armchairs by the shelves. Yet, he tries to keep his face neutral and his voice even, nonchalantly sipping on the digestive tea they were given.

Once they finished eating, he was immediately called into the office. Never once was he called in there to leave in a good mood.

“What have you decided in regards to going abroad?” his mother is the first one to speak.

Willing his hands to stop shaking, he politely smiles. “I'd like to graduate here, it would be bothersome to move so close to the end of the semester.”

His father frowns, clearing his throat disapprovingly. “You would still have a semester left, it is better for your image if you at least studied somewhere else a few months.”

Chanhee puts down his teacup, folding his hands onto his lap. “I have done a few internships in Japan and China over my course, I don't think it would be an issue to graduate in Korea.” Though his voice is even and determined, his heartbeat is racing and a cold sweat is dripping down his spine.

Both his parents stay silent a moment, pursing their lips, obviously dissatisfied.

“Chanhee,” a discontent voice calls, and he as well as his parents turn their heads towards chairman Choi, sitting at the large desk. “Have I taught you to be stubborn?”

His breath catches in his throat and he lowers his eyes. “No, grandfather.”

“Remember that you have been raised in this house out of goodwill, not because you are a legitimate son,” his grandfather's words make him flinch, shame and anger flaring up under his skin, yet he doesn't express it out loud.

“I am sorry to have caused your displeasure,” Chanhee says, his tone reedy, “please, I don't want to be sent away. I promise I won't cause you worries.” He addresses a slight bow to the chairman to punctuate his wish, hoping it will convince him.

His mother scoffs.

“You are just as ungrateful as my sister,” his father remarks, and the son makes himself to be even smaller, slightly curling upon himself.

“I am sorry.”

At fifteen years old, Chanhee heard an interesting story from one of the house's old maids. A long time ago, his father's sister ran away to marry a man the Choi family didn't approve of, and from that union, a son was born. When he was an infant, the chairman's only daughter passed away in a traffic accident, leaving her husband to raise their child alone. Disgraced by their family, they didn't have much money in the first place, so the windowed husband took his son to the Choi's estate and begged the chairman to raise him as his legitimate grandson. It hadn't taken long for Chanhee to understand he was that child. He doesn't know much more of the story, but his grandfather must have felt some pity for his daughter's husband and took Chanhee into the house. He was raised thinking his uncle and aunt were his parents while the family made sure not to bring his attention to the disowned daughter. Until the young him asked for the truth – no one answered, but their harsher treatment afterward told him everything he needed to know.

Chanhee blinks himself out of his thoughts when his father throws a bunch of pictures on the small table between them for him to see.

He doesn't need to lean forward to clearly see what exactly they're showing and instead diverts his eyes away from them, tears pooling in them and his breath becoming difficult. He tries to keep calm, not to let his distress be visible, but he feels like he's dying like his head is surrounded by a bee swarm and he's going to throw his insides up.

It is him in the picture, him with multiple men.

“Perhaps you were under the impression that because you are not going to take over the company, you are exempt from paying attention to our competitors,” his father coldly says, not caring about the visible panic moving his son's face. “You are lucky we got them before it went to the media.”

Chanhee struggles to swallow. “I- I'm not even in the public's eye, why would the media be interested in my affairs?” he weakly manages to say, his face still turned away from his family, hiding his reddening eyes from them.

“Wherever you go, you're still a representative of the family,” his mother retorts harshly.

“It has been controlled as of now, but you have to choose: either you go abroad or you stay here, but dating men is out of the question.”

Chanhee looks at his grandfather, in the hope of some help. Even if the chairman has always been quite hard on him, he did help him a few times in front of his parents out of remaining affection for his late daughter – this time he hopes he has enough pity for him. But his grandfather simply turns his head, as if he can't bear his sight.

“If you resist, it can be arranged if we take your car and make you come back in this house,” Chanhee's father concludes. “You would be driven everywhere you go and be on our watch. I'm sure this can help you think more wisely.”

He feels trapped. “Why won't you just kick me out? Why are you doing this to me?”

He watches his mother get up and sit down on the armchair next to him, raising her hands to cup his face and pet his hair, gently, smiling. “You know we can't do that, how would you survive in the real world with no money?” Though her words are cruel and her touch is mocking, Chanhee longs to find love in them.

When he leaves with wobbly legs, willing himself not to break down the second he has closed the office door behind me, he is met with his second brother. “Clean your face, you shouldn't let the world see your weaknesses,” Chanwoo says, handing him a handkerchief, before going around him to enter the office without so much as a second glance.

Chanhee stares at the tissue in his hands with rage and holds back a scream. “I'll choke you with your damn handkerchief,” he spits at it as if it is his brother.

*

Sunwoo is standing in front of Chanhee's apartment, in a dilemma.

It has been nearly a week since he last heard of him. At first, it didn't worry him since he does know the older boy is getting busier with the end of the semester. He did want to see him and had glanced so many times at the entrances of all three of his workplaces in the hope to see him cross the doors, that it had gotten him scolded. But after three days, he had eventually texted him to see if he was at least alive and started to wonder if there was something wrong when even a day later, Chanhee didn't open the text.

He didn't want to fret over it in the beginning, but it bothered him. Did he do something? Did something happen? Did he get into an accident? Did he leave for the States without even biding him farewells, in the end?

When Sunwoo let one more day go by and more and more horrifying scenarios kept playing in his head, he decided to wait outside his campus. He saw Chanhee's best friend come out, with no signs of the blonde. So, stopping him before getting into a car he asked him, only to receive an embarrassed wince.

“I don't know if I should tell you this, but I guess you perhaps could do something...” Changmin said, looking hesitant. But he relented with a sigh when Sunwoo begged for some answers. “He's home and as far as I know he's alive. I was going to see him actually, he's... not well. I don't think he would want to see you in this state.”

It had annoyed Sunwoo, frankly speaking, wanting to yell at Changmin that it wasn't his call to make whether or not they could see each other. But he stayed quiet because he was his best friend, and after all, he knew him best. Except his worry worsened until he couldn't stand it anymore.

If he was determined to see Chanhee, he faltered when he was met with silence to his knocks.

He knows his passcode, but he doesn't know if he should really press the numbers and let himself in. He has done it many times, but at moments where Chanhee was expecting him. His worry wins over, though, when he knocks once more but still doesn't get any answer.

It's easy to see something is not right the second he steps a foot inside the apartment and it's dark, only a few weak sunbeams seeping through the drawn curtains letting him see his way around. When he goes in further into the apartment into the living room, he is surprised by the mess. The coffee table is covered in unwashed dishes and there's an ashtray filled to the brim, as well as an empty bottle.

The whole living room smells like tobacco, and it's stifling. Chanhee must have dismissed his housekeeper, he concludes with a sinking heart.

Eventually, he spots Chanhee on the couch, sleeping. He looks almost peaceful in the middle of his chaos.

Sunwoo doesn't know how to feel and it takes him a long moment before he manages to push to the back of his head the guilt that flares up in his stomach when he thinks he should've checked on Chanhee earlier. He decides to let him sleep but starts cleaning up the table the most silently he can.

The kitchen is in no better state, but Sunwoo doesn't do more than collecting the bottles he finds scattered here and there to throw them away and putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. It takes him a great effort not to be brash and rummages through the house to find all the alcohol Chanhee has stored and empty it all before he can drink it. Sunwoo sometimes resents the blonde for everything he puts his body through, gets angry, and wants to yell at him to stop doing this.

Chanhee wakes up when Sunwoo is opening the windows to air the room.

“Changmin?” His voice is rough and groggy, barely a whisper.

“So, you're the type to call another guy's name?” he replies for a lack of better answer, turning around to look at the blonde and walking over to crouch next to him.

Sunwoo has never seen Chanhee like that. He looks pasty, sickly, and tired, with puffy and red-rimmed eyes, blueish dark circles, and greasy, messy hair.

He looks small, yet he tries to steel his gaze and glare at Sunwoo. “What are you doing here?”

“Being a friend, what else?” he says, attempting to smile, even if he wants to do anything but that, even if he wants to hold Chanhee in his arms instead.

Sunwoo expects Chanhee to protest and kick him out, but he doesn't. Instead, his eyebrows creases and he winces before a sob spill past his lips and he breaks down.

“It wasn't my brother in the end,” the blonde says, grasping at the younger boy's shirt and clenching his hands around the fabric. Sunwoo immediately catches him into his arms and sits down next to him on the couch, letting him cry on his shoulder, petting his neck, and shushing him. “It wasn't my brother who told my parents.”

Sunwoo's heart aches and squeezes his eyes shut, a lump growing in his throat. “It's going to be okay, take your time,” he tries to keep his voice even, whispering the most appeasing words he can find, his chin propped on the crown of Chanhee's head. “Breathe, slowly.”

“Someone followed me all this time and tried to expose me to the media, that's how my parents found out,” Chanhee tells him, inarticulate and choking on his tears.

Sunwoo doesn't answer and simply rubs shapeless patterns into his bony back. “Listen to my breath, okay?” he says when the blonde keeps choking and he hears his breath grow more and more difficult. He squeezes him tighter against his chest as if to blanket him entirely.

It takes a few long minutes before Chanhee stops wheezing, a couple more before he stops sobbing, and much longer before he stops crying. When he is calm, they don't move, Chanhee's ear against Sunwoo's heart, visibly listening to it, while the latter doesn't stop rocking them back and forth.

His usual sweet and dreamlike scent is long gone, replaced with cold tobacco, a hint of alcohol, and sweat. It breaks his heart to see him in this state.

Chanhee sniffles and sighs, his breath hot against Sunwoo's skin.

“Sunwoo, would you miss me if I left?”

He doesn't have much courage to speak up, so he simply hums.

“Can you kidnap me instead of letting me leave, then?”

Sunwoo presses his lips against Chanhee's forehead before looking down at him. His eyes are lost in the vague and he looks lifeless, abandoned against him. “Are they making you leave?”

“That or come back in the house to keep watch on me,” he explains, his voice breaking again, “I don't know what to do.”

“If you let me get rid of all the alcohol in here, I'll elope with you.”

The ultimatum, even if to some extent a joke, makes Chanhee move, sitting back up and scowling at him. Sunwoo looks serious and tries to hold the blonde's glare. “What are you doing here?”

“Told you, helping a friend.” The answer doesn't seem to satisfy him, but it doesn't deter Sunwoo.

“What do you want from me, Sunwoo?” As suddenly as he broke down earlier, Chanhee enters a raging fit. “Are you here to make yourself feel good? To feed your hero complex?” he pushes him off, and Sunwoo tries not to let his words hurt him, aware that he's trying to defend himself after getting confronted. He sighs and it makes Chanhee bare his teeth, getting up and lighting up a cigarette. “You can leave,” he says, waving a dismissive hand at him, turning towards the open balcony.

“Do you really want me to leave?” Sunwoo asks though he knows the answer. Chanhee glares at him above his shoulder and blows a long cloud of smoke. “I feel like you're asking me to stay, though.”

“Stop wasting your time on me!” Chanhee yells, facing him again. He looks conflicted. “What? Dick's not big enough so you want to feel all big by saving me? Stop trying so hard!”

“Chanhee,” Sunwoo says in a breath, also getting up to walk closer to him, but he stops when the blonde steps back. “You know I'm doing this because I care for you. I'm tired of seeing you destroy yourself.”

Chanhee snorts. “You said, no you promised you'd stand by side,” he reminds him, his tone dark and vicious. “You're tired? You'll stay with a condition? You're a liar.”

Sunwoo licks his lips before pursing them, frustration building in his chest. “Are you even listening to yourself? What did you expect me to do, Chanhee? Listen, I can't just stay but do nothing, it won't just be okay with a snap of fingers if I stay.”

“I want you to love me! I just want someone to love me and hug me and tell me I'm okay!” he shouts, tears pooling in his eyes again. He looks like a trapped animal, panicked, and to which the last resort is screaming, distressed. “Why won't you just love me?”

“I can't force you to get better, Chanhee!” Sunwoo snaps, growing frustrated by his stubbornness. Chanhee widens his eyes and lets out a broken sob, stumbling back some more until he's leaning onto the window's frame. “I can't help you just by liking you! I can't just have my life revolve around watching you destroy yourself and hope you won't kill yourself in the process! This is not love.”

The blonde starts crying again, and it takes all his might for Sunwoo not to break and backtrack, when he feels he's getting somewhere. “And what about not going anywhere?”

“I'm not a punching ball or a doctor!” He steps forward until he reaches the older boy, now looking outside the balcony, and puts his hands on his shoulders, gently squeezing them. “Chanhee, your happiness and mental health can't be dependent on me. I can be a factor, but I can't be its only source. I have my family and myself to feed, I don't get to do whatever I want to do like you.”

Chanhee frowns at him, but Sunwoo feels his defense crack. “Then leave if I'm one more burden.”

He heaves a controlled sigh, squeezing his eyes shut not to lose his shit, before opening them and looking right into the blonde's eyes. “Chanhee, you don't have to make me stay by guilt-tripping me, this is going to be toxic for the both of us. Listen, I don't want to leave either, okay?”

“How? How do I make you stay if not that?”

“By reaching out to take my hand instead of waiting for me to do it. I can't heal you, it's not my role, but I can walk with you in your healing process.”

The blonde is looking at him with shiny eyes, his lips trembling, and Sunwoo finally feels like he has managed to make him face all the truths he didn't want to admit.

“How can you help me out if I'm not even allowed to be with you,” he eventually speaks up again, looking drained of his energy. Sunwoo kisses his forehead again, resting his lips there longer than necessary to hide his own heartbreak, his eyes shut not to let his own tears overflow.

“We are friends,” he says, his voice strained, “friends are okay, right? We'll figure it out.”

Chanhee looks at him, seeming torn but doesn't speak more.

“It's not your fault, none of this is, okay? You didn't do anything wrong, but that doesn't mean you don't have to do what's right for yourself,” he murmurs, cupping his face, feeling himself ache all over his body when the other only looks empty.

“I don't think I can fight, Sunwoo.”

“Nobody can fight without building some muscles, we'll get there.”

For a long moment, they just stay put, Chanhee anxiously smoking and Sunwoo watching him until he's ready to take his helping hand. He has always looked like a bottle filled to the brim, sometimes spilling a few drops when he was nudged, but in this instant, he looks like he has poured the entire content of the bottle and is left empty.

In Sunwoo's mind, Chanhee couldn't _not_ be devastatingly pretty like a fairy, but he is proven wrong. For all the artifices the blonde uses to hide the extent of his hurting mind to make himself think there is nothing wrong with himself, that he's fine, he now looks like death itself. He looks older and sick. It's a sight Sunwoo doesn't like to see, somewhere in the back of his brain he wants Chanhee to go back to his usual self and forget about it all, but he knows that his usual self isn't doing well even if he looks like it. It is more comfortable for everyone to either see that someone is hurting but is trying their best not to show it, or to use the fact they look well to pretend they don't see a thing.

Except that mental illnesses are disgusting – they _are_ illnesses. Sunwoo is hit by this thought, that Chanhee is not pretty and looks sickly right now because he _is_ ill.

“Do I really have an issue with alcohol?” Chanhee asks after some time, though the younger is pretty sure he finally knows the answer to this question. He lets go of his shoulders to catch his hands, squeezing them in his – they are abnormally cold and clammy.

“The first step forward you can take is admitting it to yourself.”

“Admitting it means I have to make effort to fix the issues, though,” he protests, but Sunwoo sees resignation in his pupils.

“It's going to be hard, but if you don't do it, it's going to get worse and even harder.”

“It all seems pointless, Sunwoo,” he sighs, letting himself slide against the wall to sit, turning his face away again to look outside. The younger follows him, crouching in front of him. “What's the use if... if,” he swallows hardly, “if I'm locked up.”

“Then we're planning a jailbreak,” Sunwoo says, trying to make him smile because he can't promise him anything, not right now when he doesn't know the full story. The blonde finally looks somewhat like himself when he cast him an annoyed glance. “We'll figure it out, okay? Let's build you some muscles to fight back and if our game is still shit, we'll bluff and con them.”

“We?”

“Well, I can't be your lover just yet, but I can be your right-hand man.”

Finally, these words seem to bring some life back over Chanhee's features and he gives him a tight-lipped yet sincere smile, which Sunwoo returns, wider, taking the blonde against his chest.

“ _Just yet_ ,” Chanhee murmurs against the crook of his neck, “that means one day.”

Though Sunwoo itches to tell him he does like him, even possibly loves him already, he doesn't do anything, knowing it is not the time yet – for his own and Chanhee's sake, he can't say it at a time they are both vulnerable and not allowed to openly love each other.

Sunwoo feels bad for implying a promise he is not sure he can keep, but he is frightened at the idea that Chanhee won't keep going without some sort of hope holding him standing.

“You're cold, let's warm you up with a bath,” Sunwoo replies in the end, hoping that at least, his feelings can be heard in between the lines if he can't say them out loud.

So, he takes care of Chanhee, washes his hair, and rinses all the sweat off his body at the same time as he rids him off of the hurtful words he has ruminated over for days, wallowing in tears, dirt, and alcohol. Chanhee tells him what exactly happened in the office, sleepily, letting Sunwoo massage his tense muscles and sore bones with soap, while he listens and kisses his temples, his hands, his neck, and his shoulders.

Never his lips. Like he has a foot over the limit line, but won't actually step over it, he knows that not saying the three magical words that burn his tongue, not kissing his lips, but letting his feelings known in his voice and gestures, kissing everywhere else, is him toying with the line.

But Chanhee is like a sour candy – he can't stop tasting it, though he should stop himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom) / [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don't you want to go back to college?”
> 
> Sunwoo looks up from the game he was playing on his phone, sprawled on the bed. Chanhee is watching him with curiosity from above his laptop's screen, textbooks, and notes scattered all over the small table where he's sitting.

“Don't you want to go back to college?”

Sunwoo looks up from the game he was playing on his phone, sprawled on the bed. Chanhee is watching him with curiosity from above his laptop's screen, textbooks, and notes scattered all over the small table where he's sitting.

They are at Sunwoo's, Chanhee studying because he's about to enter his finals week while Sunwoo is doing nothing because after replacing one of his coworkers' at the coffee shop, his manager insisted on giving him a day off.

After Chanhee's break down three weeks before, the blonde never fully went back to himself. Though he still knows how to fiercely glare, say biting words, and feign nearly unreal confidence, he also hides a lot more as well. Sometimes he gets to see some of his old impish grins and the mirthful glint in his eyes that makes him look like a cat, but most often his smiles are tight-lipped and his eyes are tired. He is scared most of the time, never stays long outside because he fears someone is following him, and he can't sleep alone either, replaying in his dreams his nightmarish confrontation with his family. Chanhee doesn't come to bother Sunwoo at work anymore, he does come to get him at the end of his shifts but always stays in his car, and when they see each other it's never anywhere other than the confines of their own homes. Sunwoo lets him go at the pace he needs, and if he needs a few weeks withdrawing into himself, he doesn't try to force him out – it is, after all, only the beginning.

He is surprised, though, that Chanhee insists, most of the time, to come at Sunwoo's, even if it's just to study, instead of studying in the library with his friends. But again, he indulges him and lets him go at his own pace. Sunwoo suspects that Chanhee is trying to avoid temptations by staying alone in his apartment – so for that, he is proud of him. Despite not being okay, he thinks he's rebuilding himself after being finally shattered to pieces.

Sunwoo groans when his attention is drawn back to his game when it vibrates in his hands and indicates that he lost, but he locks it, sitting up.

“Where does that come from?” he eventually answers Chanhee's question after a long moment.

The blonde shrugs, a pensive pout on his pink, heart-shaped lips. “The mind wanders in many places when you're supposed to be studying for your finals. So?”

“I can't,” Sunwoo sighs, but the blonde seems dissatisfied by that answer.

“That doesn't answer my question.”

Sunwoo sighs once more. He thinks about a year ago when he started college with his friends, his first months of classes, the anxiety that came over him when he realized it was different from high school, and the thrill of feeling like finally, he was learning something useful. “I do miss it, but there's no use dwelling on it.”

Chanhee gnaws on his bottom lip, his eyebrows furrowed and looking hesitant. “Can't you fight for it?” he asks in the end, sounding unsure. “Can't we figure this out, too?”

He licks his lips, the mere idea of being selfish and choosing his dreams again filling him with anxiety. “With the hospital bills, it just feels pointless.”

The blonde closes his laptop, joining his hands over it and twisting his fingers. He's not staring at him anymore, even more hesitant. Sunwoo observes his skittish behavior with confusion.

“I want to say something, but I don't know if this will make you angry, so please let me speak until the end, okay?”

The younger boy gets up from the bed to sit across Chanhee at the table. “What's going on?”

“I could help you, maybe?” Sunwoo tries to say something, but the blonde immediately cuts him off, anxiously watching him. “Let me finish, I know you don't like it when I help you with money, I know. But I could get this burden off your shoulders, I... I want to help you too.”

He purses his lips, holding back his protests. Sunwoo honestly doesn't like to speak with Chanhee about his financial struggles and is most often content with letting it be a subject the both of them avoid.

“I'm not saying to stop working and have me pay for all your family expenses, I know you'd hate it but,” the blonde licks his lips, his eyes traveling between his hands and Sunwoo as if he can't hold his gaze, “at least with the hospital bills.”

Sunwoo heaves a sigh before taking Chanhee's hands into his to intertwine their fingers, stopping him from fidgeting any longer. “I don't need to go back to college, okay? Taking care of my family is enough for me.”

The older boy looks unconvinced. “I can't force you to accept, but at least think about it a little? Don't dismiss the idea immediately. I don't want you to resent your family in a few years...”

“I won't,” Sunwoo's tone is final, unwilling to acknowledge the concern.

“You might. You obviously want to go to school and you're honestly overworking yourself...”

For a while, the younger boy doesn't answer, while the blonde waits – one tense and the other hopeful.

“I don't want to talk about it anymore,” Sunwoo eventually retorts, scowling, and Chanhee lets out a breath full of resignation.

“Fine, but think about it. You can't be the only one to give in this relationship.”

Sunwoo is about to reply that it doesn't bother him and he likes it better that way when his phone rings, startling them both.

“Oh, mom, is everything okay? Why are you calling?” he asks, worried, as soon as he picks up after seeing the caller ID. Chanhee raises a curious eyebrow at him but leaves him to his phonecall to focus back on his notes.

His mother laughs. “I'm your mother, silly, why do you assume something's wrong every time I call?”

“It's not like that, mom,” Sunwoo chuckles, getting up to leave the one-room apartment not to disturb Chanhee in his studying. “How are the kids?” he inquires once he's sitting on the stairs near his door, stretching his legs in front of him and watching children play in the street downstairs.

“Sunjin is stressed with her exams, she challenged herself to beat their class president so she's locked herself in her bedroom since last week,” his mother tells him, pride in her voice, “she's deadset on getting a scholarship to go to Yonsei.” It makes Sunwoo laugh, despite his heart-ache – he wishes she didn't have to push herself so hard to get a scholarship, even harder than her peers. “Sunjung... um, fought with his classmate so he's staying after class to clean as a punishment,” she continues, sounding exasperated. “I don't know how I made that little one such a delinquent. Last week he sneaked out to go to the arcades with his friends.”

Sunwoo snickers, a wave of fondness taking over him. “I guess finally one of us takes after dad,” he says softly and smiles sadly when his mother quietly hums.

“You should come home during the break, we could go see your dad. The kids miss you, Sunwoo,” his mother suggests, and he is tempted, but anxiety bubbles in his stomach. “Especially Sunho, you know he feels guilty towards you.”

He sighs, unsure. “How is he?”

“Better but there's still a long way to go. The doctors said surgery would definitely help, but well,” she doesn't need to say more for Sunwoo to understand. _It's too expensive for them._ He bites his lip, squeezing his eyes shut when they start to sting, gathering his knees and pressing his eyelids against them.

“Should I ask for longer shifts?” he asks with a trembling voice.

“No, Sunwoo. It's already hard to know you work so much, if you do I'll come here I give a beat-up, okay?” There's a stifling silence between them for a moment before she starts speaking again. “My baby, it's very hard for you, hm? Mom's sorry.”

A lump grows at the back of his throat and tears pool in his eyes, but he wills them back and straightens up to look up at the sky, sniffling and coughing to hide his emotional state. “No, mom, I'm happy to help you,” he reassures her, pretending he doesn't hear the way his voice is strained. The last thing he wants is for his mother to sell her flower shop to work harder somewhere more physical.

“Please come home, hm? At least two days, you work hard, I'm sure your bosses will understand.”

Sunwoo doesn't answer right away, hesitant. He does want to see them, but he's also scared to face their guilty eyes. He glances at his door, thinking about Chanhee and his words from earlier. He also thinks about the fact they don't know a thing about this big change in his life. He wonders if his friend would like to see more of him.

“I guess I could,” he breaks into a halfhearted smile when he hears her make a happy noise. “Would you mind if I brought someone?”

“Someone?” she sounds excited, her previous emotions replaced with something that sounds oddly like a thrill for gossip. “A lover? Boy or girl? How did you meet?”

He laughs quietly. He has the thought that he's lucky to have a mother who has never cared about who he loved. He had learned on a very embarrassing occurrence that she was okay with him dating boys and girls when she had taken fruits to his bedroom one day after his friend – who she had noticed started to come more and more often – was gone and instead of leaving, she sat on his bed after putting the plate of fruits on his desk, letting him stare in horror at the condoms she sneaked with it. “ _What do you know about safe sex?_ ” she had asked very seriously, resulting in him dragging her out of his bedroom, his cheeks beet-red from embarrassment, and locking himself inside to scream his shame into his pillow. “ _You're my boy no matter who you love, only if you don't put yourself in danger!_ ” she had reassured behind his locked door, before leaving him to calm down.

“It's complicated, but he's very precious to me, mom,” he admits into the phone, his heart speeding in his chest.

“I can't wait to meet him,” she says, a smile audible in her tone.

They end the call quickly after that and Sunwoo feels almost giddy at the idea of taking Chanhee home with him.

The blonde looks at him with wide eyes when he asks him to come with him once his finals are over.

“Are you sure?” he looks hesitant but somewhat hopeful.

“My mother wants to meet you,” he says watching Chanhee try to hold back a happy smile.

“I guess I could make up a lie to my family,” the older boy says in the end, tacitly agreeing.

“We'll be careful,” Sunwoo reassures him, kissing the crown of his head. The soft look of delight and impatience on Chanhee's face tells him he did well by taking this step forward.

*

Quickly enough Chanhee is over with his exams and Sunwoo is putting his bag in the car's trunk. The weather is hot and he's relieved when he's sitting inside, the AC fully turned up. He lets out an agonizing groan, wiping his sweat under his brown bangs, while the blonde snickers beside him. “Fucking heatwaves.”

“You look like a tired dog,” Chanhee teases, starting the engines.

“I can't believe you look this fine when I'm about to die,” Sunwoo grumbles, looking at the blonde's summer clothes – he's wearing shorts and a white t-shirt, but the blue wool vest he's wearing above and the silk scarf he has wrapped around his neck make him feel hot when he's not even the one wearing them. It's a pretty look, but it's probably too warm for the weather, yet Chanhee looks just as perfect as he usually does. “Don't you sweat, like at all?”

Chanhee rolls his eyes, an amused smirk on his lips. “I do sweat, but I don't go places where there's no AC.”

“Oh, boy, you're in for a surprise then, because we don't have one at home.”

The blonde looks almost horrified as he turns dramatically towards him, thankfully stopped at a red light. He looks at him silently for a second, before sighing. “Perhaps my mother was right when she said I couldn't spend a second in the real world.”

Sunwoo is relieved to see that he doesn't look upset, his tone lighthearted and seemingly at ease, able to make a joke out of his mother's words. So, he grins, squeezing Chanhee's bare tight. “Perhaps it is time you learn about the world, my dear little lamb.”

The blonde glares at him but snorts. “You forget a little too often who's the oldest, here.”

The ride to Sunwoo's hometown is quite long, but it goes by fast with them talking about nothings and joking around. Halfway through it, they start bickering about a movie they've both seen, one that Sunwoo hated watching but Chanhee is convinced is a masterpiece. When they finally park in front of Sunwoo's childhood house, it's barely past noon. The sun is even hotter and Chanhee closes the door again right after opening it and feeling the heat, refusing to go out.

“I'll literally die if I step a foot outside.”

“We'll buy you a fan at some convenience store, you won't die,” Sunwoo chuckles, rolling his eyes when he sees that Chanhee is staring at him with big, anxious eyes.

“What if your family hates me?”

“They won't. And if they do, it never stopped me from seeing someone.” Chanhee doesn't look convinced, but eventually follows his suit when he gets out and starts walking towards the entrance door after getting their bags.

“Sunwoo, my big boy, I feel like you've grown so much,” is the first thing his mother says when she opens the door, immediately cupping his cheeks and inspecting him before kissing him. “You must be Chanhee, come, come!” she exclaims, excited, and taking the blonde's hands to drag him inside, while he simply blinks, surprised and speechless.

“I'm pleased to meet you, ma'am,” Chanhee greets her politely, slightly bowing when they're inside, his hands still in Sunwoo's mother's hands.

“How nicely you speak,” she beams, enthusiastic, and Chanhee finally grins at her, pleased. “Kids, your brother and his friend are here!”

Sunjung is the first one to show up, looking like a small version of Sunwoo, his broody air even worse. He looks at Chanhee, who smiles at him and waves his hand, then at Sunwoo, who grins even wider when his little brother's scowl worsens.

“You look rich,” he merely states, making Chanhee splutter, awkwardly laughing.

“Hey, little punk, come here instead of being rude,” Sunwoo orders, stepping forward to cage Sunjung in his strong arms. His brother grumbles and pretends to fight off the hug, but Sunwoo does hear the shy “missed you” he mumbles against his chest. “Are you trying to copy my style, now that you're in middle school? What's this frown?” the older teases, bursting into laughter when Sunjung breaks free from the hug and leaves to the living room with pink cheeks. His mother and Chanhee laugh as well at the scene.

“Sunwoo!” his sister calls, coming out of his room with a smile so bright it could rival the sun. Sunwoo whistles and welcomes her in his arm, slightly shocked to see they have barely a few centimeters of difference.

“Are you trying to become a giant? What is mom feeding you that she didn't give me?”

“Don't be jealous to be smaller than a girl, it looks ugly on you,” she banters back, stepping away and punching his shoulder.

“We're not there yet, don't get ahead of yourself.”

Sunjin ignores him, instead turning towards Chanhee and politely bowing, before stretching her hand towards him with an almost competitive smile. “Mom said you're graduating from the course I'm taking next year, I expect you to lend me your notes.”

Chanhee giggles, taking her hand and shaking it. “Already striving to be the next valedictorian? Ambitious.”

“I googled you, so beware I could try and use you to get where I want,” she winks at the blonde, jokingly, but it doesn't seem to offend him.

Sunwoo tries to fake a frown, his smile threatening to split his face. “You're actually a demon,” he says at his sister, who pulls her tongue at him. Rolling his eyes, he turns back towards his mother who is watching them with a delighted beam. “I'll show the room to Chanhee so we can unpack.”

“Don't take too long, lunch is about to be ready,” she merely says, smiling once more at Chanhee when he bows at her and Sunjin before following Sunwoo.

“Your family's nice,” Chanhee softly remarks when they're walking up the stairs. Sunwoo takes his hand and slightly nudges him with his elbow.

“Told you. And welcome into my very humble childhood bedroom,” he says, opening the door for them and putting the bags down before letting himself fall on the bed. Chanhee quietly closes the door and looks around, stars in his eyes. Sunwoo watches him stare at pictures of his high school years and the trophies and framed certificates on the shelves, then at his video game collection.

“You played lots of sports,” he notices, smiling at the prizes and the group pictures with his sports teams. “Oh, that's a poetry prize. You write poetry?”

“Used to, not anymore,” Sunwoo hums with a sad smile, “I studied literature before dropping out.”

Chanhee nods, looking deep in thoughts, before coming closer and letting himself fall next to him, resting his head on Sunwoo's arm and looking at him. “You seemed like a kid with many dreams.”

“That's why I want my siblings to all make their dreams come true if I don't get to,” the younger whispers, turning onto his side to face the blonde. “I know what it's like to lose them.”

Chanhee stares at him silently for a moment before lifting his hand to touch Sunwoo's cheek, brushing it and then, entangling his fingers in his hair, his thumb stroking his ear. Sunwoo's heart runs on without him, the gentle touch sending shivers through his spine. He wants to taste his lips again, but instead, he kisses his forehead.

“I don't think they're completely lost,” Chanhee murmurs tentatively.

“Chanhee, stop,” Sunwoo only says against his forehead, and the blonde simply sighs. He sits up.

“Come on, let's go eat.”

*

After lunch, Sunwoo and his family go to visit his father at the cemetery. Chanhee assures them he's fine being left at home for a couple of hours and that he will busy himself with something else anyway.

His little brother stays stuck to Sunwoo's side, for once not fighting off the protective arm he wraps around his shoulder, and he looks withdrawn. The loss of their father was the hardest on Sunjung, who was at the time only eight and had struggled to understand what was happening to them, since then Sunwoo had taken care of him the most, acting both as a father and a brother figure for the youngest of them all.

Sunjin is walking at their mother's side, their arms linked and quietly chatting. Their lighthearted behavior makes Sunwoo smile. It has been five years already, so though their hearts are still heavy whenever they come here, all of them are now fine with living on without Sunwoo's father. He has left a big gap in their lives, but as time goes by, they are slowly getting used to this gap.

“Sunwoo,” Sunjung calls, frowning his feet.

“Hm?”

“Is Chanhee your boyfriend?”

The question brings a sad smile to Sunwoo, and he squeezes his brother's shoulder. “It's complicated.”

“Why?”

“Because of adult stuff, you don't need to know about, midget.”

Sunjung glares at him. “I'm grown, I'm not a baby anymore!”

Sunwoo chuckles, sneaking both his arms around his youngest brother and walking wrapped around his back just for the sake of hearing him complain more. “When you whine like that I'm not so sure.”

“Ah, you're annoying, idiot!” Sunjung groans, breaking free and walking with two meters between them.

“We really raise children to be ungrateful,” Sunwoo teases some more, and their mother turns around, exasperated.

“Boys, stop bickering two seconds.”

Sunjin by her side chuckles behind her hand, while Sunwoo beams, proud of himself, and the youngest grumbles, irritated.

After a moment of peace, Sunjung speaks again, begrudgingly and still at a distance from him. “Your friend's nice, it would be cool if you came home more often with him, too.”

Sunwoo blinks at his brother, surprised before his face splits into a shit-eating grin. He knows his brother and the struggles of being thirteen years old enough to understand that it is him actually asking for his brother to visit more, using Chanhee as a cover. He doesn't say anything though, crossing the distance between the two of them and wrapping his arm around Sunjung's neck again. “Oooh, little bro, did you fall in love with Chanhee too?”

Sunjung makes a disgusted face. “Sunwoo, he's old as hell.”

The older boy barks out a boom of laughter. “You have a serious case of disrespecting your elders, huh?”

“Not my fault if you're all boomers.”

Like that, they reach their father's grave with peaceful hearts. Sunwoo watches their mother clean the grave and replacing withered flowers with fresh ones. The three siblings are aligned, their hands joined before them, waiting for their mother to be done pouring alcohol for their father.

“Look how big our babies have become,” she says softly once she's up and back between the two eldest, putting a hand on their neck and stroking them with pride. “They are growing to be perfect so I hope you're not too worried. We knew Sunwoo would become a brave boy, so you can be very proud of him.”

Sunwoo lowers his head, feeling his eyes sting and emotions bubble in his chest. It is always very hard to hear the underlying guilt in his mother's voice, but he endures it. His little brother, next to him, looks up and quietly takes one of his hands, before looking back forward.

He listens to his mother talk some more, praising all her children and then praying for Sunho's well-being. Sunwoo tells them to leave ahead and that he will catch up to them in a bit, needing a moment alone.

He was very close to his father before he passed away from a car accident, so his loss had been hard on him. He resented him for a long time as well, though it wasn't his fault, feeling abandoned and left with the duty to shoulder the consequences for his mother's sake. She had tried not to let him pay for their loss, but Sunwoo was stubborn, and unfortunately, he was also the eldest, so there wasn't so much they could do if they wanted to keep going. And it had been doable, taking care of his siblings while also growing up the way he wanted to. Until Sunho's illness, only three months into his freshman year of college. His mother had been against him dropping out to work, honestly, but Sunwoo couldn't stand the idea of her overworking herself alone to tend to the needs of her children.

“I'm sorry I don't come that often,” Sunwoo says, kneeling in front of his father's grave. “Honestly it's hard for me to come back here, I feel like they want to apologize to me all the time, but I'm doing fine,” despite his words, he feels choked up, but he manages to swallow his tears back – he can't come back with red eyes. “I have a friend who's precious to me, later when we're both ready, I'll introduce you to each other. Our meeting was a little weird, to be honest, but I think I love him. You would've liked him a lot, I think, because he likes to run his mouth a lot. I want him to be happy, if he is, I feel like I will be fine too. I don't think he knows it, but he helps me go through my days a lot. It's like I can breathe only if he's by my side.”

If he is honest, Sunwoo never really believed it was useful to talk to a tombstone, but he surprises himself with all the words he has to say. Perhaps, he thinks, these are words he also wanted to say out loud but couldn't share with anyone.

He gets up after a while of just listening to his own breath. His neck burns, exposed to the sun. “His name's Chanhee. I don't know what fate has planned for us, but I hope it won't be too cruel. Watch over us, okay?”

*

When they come back, Chanhee is peacefully napping in Sunwoo's bed, still holding a small electric fan to his face. He wakes up when Sunwoo sits next to him, petting his hair, and steals his breath away with just a groggy smile. After a short cuddling session, which is embarrassingly interrupted by Sunwoo's sister – who, despite months not being together, has not lost the habit of barging into her brother's room – Chanhee asks Sunwoo to show him around with flushed cheeks.

The town isn't very big, so the younger takes his time with each place he shows the blonde, telling him of the memories he has made during his childhood. Chanhee smiles a lot, hanging to his every word. With their every step, their hands brush, and they itch to link them, but Chanhee doesn't let him openly touch him in public anymore, scared of being followed. He understands and settles with these feather-like brushes.

Sunwoo shows him his old school, the skate park where he used to join his friends after practices, the arcades where he spent his weekends with Eric, his childhood best friend who left for America after graduating. They sit at the coffee shop where they used to go for group studies. Chanhee never looks bored, always fascinated with these small details.

“You had a happy childhood,” he smiles when they're slowly walking home, while the sun is setting. The orange and red hues of the sunset reflect on Chanhee's blonde hair and make his fair skin glow in pink. He looks like a fairy, and Sunwoo wants to kiss him.

He holds himself back. Simply hums. “I wonder what it would've been like if we met in high school.”

Chanhee shrugs, slightly pouting. “Probably wouldn't have changed a thing, I used to ignore my classmates a lot and no one really dared to try to become friends with me. I studied a lot.”

“You forget one thing,” Sunwoo says, flicking the blonde's forehead, who furrows his eyebrows, “I apparently like to meddle in your business.”

Chanhee chuckles, nodding. “Changmin did that too, actually. He sat down next to me one day and asked if I wanted to be his friend, and I said no, but he pretended like he didn't hear me until I said yes out of exasperation.”

“I'm happy he stayed with you,” Sunwoo gently says, nudging him a little.

Chanhee nudges him as well. “Me too.”

They make their way home peacefully, in a comfortable silence after that, simply enjoying each other's presence, and the gentle noise of the few cars passing by the residential area.

Sunjin and Sunjung are alone at home when they come back, but Sunwoo's sister informs them their mother is spending the night with Sunho at the hospital. She does it often since she can't always stay with him during the day.

That evening Chanhee suggests buying take-out food instead of cooking dinner, and his younger siblings are visibly happy at the idea, so Sunwoo lets them buy whatever they want. Chanhee doesn't even bat an eye at the quantity of food he is asked to order, simply happily obliging, while Sunwoo watches, endeared.

Chanhee is also the one who suggests the four of them watch a movie together when the food arrives. He is trying to get closer with his siblings, who seem to be more and more at ease by the minute. It fills Sunwoo with happiness, even when the three of them unite to make him their victim – he does pretend to get angry, however.

Chanhee fits here, he looks at ease and it feels like he has always belonged here, in his home.

When they get to bed, their stomachs and their hearts full, Sunwoo thanks him.

“Hm? Why?”

“For coming here... for coming into my life,” he clarifies, sneaking a hand on Chanhee's, between them. They are on their sides, facing each other. In the dark, the blonde's eyes seem to shine. “For living on.”

Chanhee doesn't answer right away and Sunwoo wonders if he's falling asleep, but eventually, he feels a hand rest on his neck, fingertips stroking him under his ear.

“I think I want to fight,” Chanhee murmurs, so quietly Sunwoo almost thinks he's imagined it. “I want to break free. I'm ready.”

It fills him with many emotions, but he doesn't know how to express them, so he only says one thing. “Jailbreak?”

Chanhee hums, and there's another moment of silence, before Sunwoo hears a rustling sound from the sheets and feels him move, and then makes out his figure in the dark sitting up above him. Before he understands what's going on, Chanhee's lips crash against his.

It doesn't take him long before he kisses him back, feeling like he has walked for years in a sand desert and that he finally he has found an oasis. Sunwoo kisses Chanhee back like he has been itching to do it for an excruciatingly long time – and it is true. Tasting his lips again, their softness and the way they tease him, makes him full again. Feeling his tongue again against his, when it pretends to be shy when it's expertly driving him mad, makes him think there is no sweeter sensation.

Sunwoo raises himself on one of his elbows and with a hand against Chanhee's back, he turns them over, until he's the one hovering above the blonde. He can't see him properly, except for a vague outline of his features, but he can feel, picture how his eyes are half-lidded, how he's looking back at him.

“I love you.”

It is Sunwoo's confession that hangs in the air this time, while Chanhee lets out a startled hiccup. Sunwoo's heart beats in his ribcage like it's ready to break free from his chest and fly out of him.

“But... but...” the blonde's voice is wobbly and choked, so the younger boy gently kisses the corner of his mouth. “What changed?”

Sunwoo pecks his mouth before replying. “You chose to fight by yourself, for yourself. It's only your own doing.”

Chanhee suddenly bursts into sobs under Sunwoo, who panics.

“What, why?” he asks, fully sitting up and cupping the blonde's cheeks to dry his tears with his thumb.

Chanhee shakes his head, letting out a wet laugh. “I have never been told _I love you_ sincerely. It feels great to hear.”

Sunwoo's heart stops. And then starts running even faster. “I love you,” he whispers, lying back down, “I love you,” he repeats, kissing his soaked cheeks, then his forehead, his temples, his closed eyes, the tip of his nose. His cupid's bow. His lips. His jaw. “I love you, Chanhee.”

Chanhee chuckles, pulling on the collar of his pajamas and crashing their lips together again. “I love you too, so much,” he confesses against Sunwoo's plump mouth and drives him to the edge of madness.

Chanhee will never stop being a sour candy against Sunwoo's lips, but he decides at that moment that he likes his sweetness after all the bitter sugar has melted on his tongue too much not to always take another one.

The next day, when they visit the hospital and Sunwoo reunites with his little brother, Chanhee comes with him. Just like he did with his other siblings, he easily wins over Sunho. Sunho is happy to see him and most of the time, Chanhee gives them the space they need to themselves, but at some point, Sunwoo excuses himself to buy drinks and when he comes back Chanhee is taking care of Sunho like he is his own brother and laughing with him. It is then that he knows he is making a good choice by giving him his trust.

“I'm ready too,” Sunwoo says once they're in the car on their way back to Seoul. Chanhee glances at him questioningly. “Reaching out to take your stretched hand. I'll do it.”

Chanhee takes Sunwoo's hand, one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes focused on the road, and squeezes it.

“I'm proud of you.”

*

Chanhee fidgets, anxious. It is almost as if he's about to bungee jump, though he has set his mind on it, he needs to gather his courage. But then, a big intake of air, he steels his heart and gets out of his car.

The Choi estate is like a castle, imposing and looming over him like it's about to swallow him – it has always made him feel trapped. He doesn't bother trying to look for his grandfather and instead asks one of the maids. “I believe he's playing golf, sir,” she says and indeed, Chanhee immediately spots him in the large golf course, swinging the club while his secretary and his father are clapping behind him.

He's nervous, but he stalks over with intent and his fists clenched at his sides. Secretary Lee is the first one to spot him, widening his eyes before greeting him with a bow. “Your third grandson is here, chairman Choi,” he announces and his father slightly turns his head to look at him. Chanhee ignores him – he has nothing to say to him.

Instead, he stands straight before the chairman and fights not to give away his fear.

His grandfather clears his throat, pursing his lips and looking at him with severe eyes – Chanhee holds his gaze. “What brings you here, now?”

Chanhee doesn't answer and licks his lips. Now or never – he bungee jumps, and lets himself fall to his knees, his back tense, but his head lowered and his fists closed onto his lap. Everyone is silent, and there's only the noise of the birds chirping around them for the five seconds it takes the young heir to find his words.

“I have thought about the options you have given me,” he starts, staring without blinking at the tip of his grandfather's golf shoes, at the shiny green grass he's crushing.

“Is that so? Which one have you chosen?” It is his father who speaks up, and he feels both their cold eyes burn holes into him.

Chanhee takes a deep breath, but his lungs stay empty. “Neither of them. I am here to ask of you to remove me from the inheritance papers. Officially.”

Above him, he hears a sigh and digs his nails deeper in his palm. “Secretary Lee, please escort Chanhee back in the house and warn the staff that he will be moving back,” his grandfather merely says, dismissing his grandson, who squeezes his eyes shut.

“No.”

“Choi Chanhee, it's time to stop throwing tantrums, you are too old for this, now,” his father harshly scolds, receiving a petulant glare from his son.

“No,” Chanhee repeats, looking up at his grandfather and straightening his back even more. “I want you to give up on me, I want you to let me go.”

Chairman Choi's mouth twitches and he scowls disapprovingly. “What reason do I have to do that?”

“What reason do _you_ have to keep me? Never was I treated as an heir, I grew up as an unwanted guest, why won't you let me go?”

“Stop being stubborn, you are acting improper,” his father reprimands, but Chanhee keeps on firmly holding his grandfather's eyes.

“I know more than you think,” the young heir informs, his voice even but his insides twisting. “I am a Choi as well, and destroying our own blood seems to come with the name. I have been underestimated my entire life, but perhaps you wouldn't if you realized that I am aware of all the skeletons hidden in this house.”

His grandfather looks emotionless, unmoved even by his speech, but he arches an eyebrow. “Do you think you would stand a chance against the empire? I have told you not to fight lost battles enough time.”

“I don't believe it is a lost battle,” Chanhee argues, swallowing thickly. “I am not asking for much. If you have at least some affection left for your daughter, please... let her son go. What use do you even have to keep me?”

“Taking you in was indeed our family's mistake, it's no surprise my sister would have given birth to an ungrateful child,” Chanhee's father mocks when he sees the chairman keep quiet.

“The public isn't very interested in me, so even if you disown me, you can make up of an easy lie and it will soon be forgotten, but if you keep me, even if I never properly get involved in the company, I'll be a shareholder and me liking men will be a danger to you.” The more he speaks, the more nausea hits him, but he keeps going. He is like a mad dog, now that he is biting the hand of his owner, he can't let it go until he feels the bones break under his skin. “Does it still sound like a lost battle?” He has yet to divert his eyes from his grandfather's, who still isn't reacting.

“You little arrogant-” his father sneers, taking a step forward, but the chairman unexpectedly raises his hand and stops him.

“Are you trying to make a deal with us?” he says, to which Chanhee shakes his head, his brows furrowed with determination.

“No, I am blackmailing you,” he announces, his tone assertive. “Except for the insurance that I will not cause any more troubles for you, I have nothing to offer.”

“Stop embarrassing yourself and get up,” the chairman sighs, “it is not proper.”

Chanhee shakes his head.

Silence falls upon the four men in the golf course, Chanhee still challenging Chairman Choi by never lowering his gaze, but eventually, it is the chairman who clears his throat and breaks their silent fight. He straightens and smooths his shirt before taking a few steps forward.

“Do you have any idea how many times I have thought about killing myself?” the blonde speaks up at last resort, and it stops his grandfather by Chanhee's side. Both look ahead of them, head held high.

“You are pitiful, son.” Though his father seems unmoved by the confession, secretary Lee looks worriedly at the chairman.

“I-” Chanhee cuts himself off when his voice breaks, clearing his throat to keep his emotions tucked inside himself. “I am sure you wouldn't be able to bear the shame of having killed one of your heirs. If you don't remove me from the inheritance papers, I will tear our family name apart, I promise that.”

Chairman Choi looks down at Chanhee, who stays still though he feels his eyes on him. “Do you think we wouldn't be able to lock you up? Be it in this house or the hospital?”

The blonde looks up at his grandfather, his eyes wet but unwavering. “Out of respect for your daughter, please, just give up on me.”

His elder seems to assess him for a long time, but Chanhee doesn't back down, though a shudder threatens to make him lose his determination.

“Do you think you can live without the ties to our family name?” chairman Choi asks in the end, still emotionless.

“I'll be alive for the first time once I cut ties with it.”

“Secretary Lee, escort Chanhee out.”

And then he walks away without one more word, quickly followed by Chanhee's father who briefly stops by his son. “Don't try to beg to come back.” And he leaves without an ounce of mercy.

Chanhee takes a deep breath and leans forward when he knows they are far, putting his hands flat in the soft grass to support himself, feeling like he's going to retch and burst into laughter at the same time. He's heaving, the pressure finally letting go of its grip around his guts.

Holding back tears of relief is hard, but he does it and raises his wet and red-rimmed eyes to the secretary. “It means I'm free, right?”

Secretary Lee nods, smiling somewhat gently. “ _I'll be alive for the first time_ , your late mother said something similar when she left.”

Chanhee's legs are jelly as he walks to his car and his grandfather's secretary doesn't help him stand straight, but once he's sitting on the driver seat and he's about to close the door, his hands trembling like leaves, secretary Lee says, “You asked why your grandfather never let you go.”

The newly disowned heir looks up at him questioningly, but nods, feeling drained by the events.

“You look a lot like his daughter, she was his favorite.”

*

Chanhee startles when he feels a warm hand against his shoulder, but doesn't look up, continuing his staring contest with the sealed bottle that stands proudly on his coffee table. He didn't hear the buzz of his door, but he guesses the silent, peaceful presence behind him is Sunwoo.

“What are you doing?” he asks, this masculine drawl of his reassuring as ever.

Chanhee doesn't know what it is that he's doing. He's sitting on one end of his large couch, his legs gathered against his chest, and his cheek in his own palm, watching a wine bottle – one he bought on his way home because Sunwoo emptied all the alcohol he could find in his apartment, though most of them had been gifts. He bought it because he wanted to celebrate his own freedom, but then he sat down and started feeling guilty.

Sunwoo seems to sense his internal struggle because he stays put behind the couch's backrest and only rubs his shoulder.

“Watching my guilt duel with the unreasonable part of my brain,” Chanhee says after a while, tilting his head back to look up at Sunwoo. He is smiling like he knows the outcome of the duel.

When Chanhee turns his eyes back to the bottle, it hasn't moved because it is an inanimate object, but it makes him think of the bitter aftertaste and the migraines wine gives him, which usually he disregards but this time makes him feel sick.

“How did it go?” Sunwoo asks after another moment of contemplative silence, going around the couch to sit next to the blonde. Chanhee leans the other way to rest his head against Sunwoo's shoulder, who automatically wraps a secure arm around his back.

Chanhee shrugs and pouts, uncertain, taking Sunwoo's other hand in his to play with his fingers.

“Unexpectedly well, kind of easy. They didn't fight too much to keep me in the end, perhaps they're expecting me to come back. Or they're happy to be rid of me.”

Sunwoo kisses the crown of his head. Chanhee feels a little like a child for liking the way it feels whenever he has protective gestures to give him.

“It doesn't matter, hm?”

Chanhee hums. He has always wanted to receive love from them, in vain. He doesn't know if it's his wishful thinking that made him see some sort of regret in his grandfather's eyes, but he decides that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because love, he has come to learn, is not something you have to beg to receive.

He is still playing with Sunwoo's fingers. They are rough, thick, but long. Golden, like his skin, is made of melted gold. Chanhee raises his head and watches him. Everything about him is strong – his furrowed eyebrows, his chocolate gaze, the sharp lines of his nose and jaw, his cherry-like mouth; but also his grip, his presence, his promises.

“It doesn't matter,” Chanhee concludes, feeling himself break into a tight-lipped smile – but then into sobs.

It doesn't matter, but it does hurt. He feels like his heart broke again, though it shouldn't have because he had never thought his family would ever fight for him. Sunwoo takes Chanhee into his chest and lets him cry tears of sorrow and relief at once until he tires himself out.

“It's okay,” the younger murmurs against his temples, and it isn't but Chanhee wants to believe him. “It's going to be okay.”

Before knowing what love feels like, Chanhee never wanted to leave his family – he was too scared to give up on them. Now that he did, he doesn't feel any regret, but perhaps sadness is inevitable.

Being in Sunwoo's arms steadies him, reassures him that he has made the right choice. Chanhee kisses him, tastes the salt of his own tears on his gentle lips, gasps a sob against his mouth, and Sunwoo kisses him back, holds his hips in his broad hands, doesn't let go of him.

“Thank you,” the blonde whispers against the corner of Sunwoo's mouth, “for putting up with me. Holding me up until I can stand by myself.”

The younger boy pecks him on the pink tip of his nose, leaning back to look at him and wiping his soaked cheeks. He shakes his head with a serious scowl, and replies, “What if your mother tries to give me money and tell me to stop dating you, now?”

Sunwoo pretends to shudder and breaks into his usual shit-eating grin when it makes Chanhee loudly laugh, his head tilted back and his mouth wide open, abandoning himself entirely to his laughing fit. He would fall on his back if Sunwoo's arms weren't clasped around his waist. Chanhee's tense muscles finally relax, and he calms down only when he feels Sunwoo's lay a lingering kiss against his throat.

“What should I do with you? You've watched TV too much,” he chuckles, looking up at his ceiling, and grinning at it. “If she does, take the money, we'll run away with it.”

Sunwoo hums against his Adam apple, the sound vibrating against Chanhee's vocal cords. His eyes flutter shut, the atmosphere shifting all of a sudden when Sunwoo keeps littering his throat with light, barely there, kisses.

Chanhee breathes out the air he didn't notice he was holding. “Sunwoo...” Another hum. “You're doing something very dangerous to someone who's very horny.”

Sunwoo snorts against his skin but finally moves back with one last peck and arches a brow at him. “Not really the romantic mood I was going for,” he says, his voice heavenly low.

“What did you expect from me? I didn't get fucked in a very long time,” Chanhee sighs dramatically and then turns an impish smirk at Sunwoo, giddy to rile him up. “You blue-balled me with no mercy last time... even with Younghoon, I didn't even get a handjob.”

Sunwoo blinks at him, unimpressed. “You are such a refined man, I have no words. Weren't you ugly crying like two seconds ago?”

The blonde scoffs, swiftly straddling the younger boy's lap, who doesn't protest though he keeps scowling. Chanhee puts his arms around his neck, intently pressing his chest against Sunwoo's. “Were you hoping I'd take you on a date hmm, let's say in a restaurant that overlooks the Han river to set the mood and wait 'til we get home to have an outstanding first time?” he asks teasingly and then catching Sunwoo's bottom lip between his own and grazing it with the tip of his tongue.

Sunwoo crashes their lips together and kisses him properly before he answers, “Something like that, yes, but I could be rethinking my choice.”

Chanhee giggles. “I'll take you to a nice restaurant after.”

“That's a deal I could get behind,” Sunwoo says, pushing himself off the couch with the blonde in his arms and holding tight against himself as they stumble their way to Chanhee's bedroom, while the latter kisses him everywhere on his face and Sunwoo struggles to walk straight because of his laughter.

Sunwoo seems to sense that Chanhee is actually asking for distraction and comfort, but thankfully for once doesn't try to stop him. It was often his desire to feel wanted and loved that has pushed into strangers' arms, his desire to feel something else than sorrow. But, as Sunwoo lays him down on his fluffy bed covers like he is precious and breakable, Chanhee learns of an entirely new type of desire he has never felt in the arms of a one-night-stands. It is something that takes his breath away, that makes him gasp on a shuddering breath, that fills him with a feeling that tickles as if the kisses Sunwoo gives him were feathers.

He is stunned and pliant as Sunwoo rids him of his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one, and leaving a trail of kisses against his chest, that he feels redden with the warmth these loving touches leave behind.

Chanhee blinks at the younger when his shirt pools around him, his nipples hardened when they're bared, and Sunwoo crawls up, to lock their gazes. He looks serious, his brown eyes profound but somewhat innocent, and there is some hesitation in them. It wakes up Chanhee from his daze and he creeps a cold hand into the back of Sunwoo's burning neck to pull him into a kiss.

Chanhee didn't expect his first time with Sunwoo to make him understand what making love feels like. He has actually never really thought it was necessary to make a big deal of it, because what more was sex than a way to find some primal satisfaction? But Sunwoo shows him in all his adorable clumsiness.

Sunwoo shows him with his palms when he strokes him everywhere he can reach, he shows him with fingers when he puts Chanhee's well-being before his own impatience, he shows him with his eyes when he stares at him with something reverent shining in his pupils.

All the times Chanhee has fantasized about how Sunwoo would feel, he has always imagined him to be somewhat brash, confident, and possessive in the best way, but what he is given instead feels even better.

In the end, he feels just as much pleasure in the way Sunwoo's frantic breath feels in his neck, in the way his grunts, moans, huffs, and puffs sound in the crook of his ears, in the _I love you_ he murmurs against his belly and then repeats until he reaches Chanhee's mouth again, than he feels in the stinging and slick stretch Sunwoo's fingers administer him, in the stuttering thrusts that make him gasps for air, in the orgasm that makes him arch his back and curl his toes.

Bathing in the bright light of a sunny late afternoon, they both end up sweaty, entangled, and out-of-breath, yet content and slightly dazed on top of Chanhee's now stained and messy bed. After a while, the blonde crawls up a little to sit with his back against the headboard, but Sunwoo doesn't move, lying on his stomach, between Chanhee's legs and his head rested against his sternum, one arm around him like he is a pillow and his other hand brushing the blonde's thigh.

He looks like a lazy lion, and the thought makes Chanhee smile with endearment. He runs his fingers into Sunwoo's chocolate locks, scratching with his nails his scalp, and softly laughs when he sees goosebumps litter the expense of his back. His back, under the sunlight, looks like a vast shore, one with soft, scorching hot, golden sand. Dark freckles are drawing a map on his skin, and Chanhee takes his time to mentally count them.

“What will you do now?” Sunwoo asks with a drawl, and Chanhee feels the words against his chest more than he hears them.

“Hm? Well, I guess I'll graduate, then find a job,” he answers, playing with Sunwoo's hair, “go on dates with you, take care of you. Help you register into a college.”

“Aren't you scared? About money, I mean?”

Chanhee chuckles. “I may have grown sheltered, but I didn't just spend my family's money as I wanted,” Sunwoo looks at him, doubtful, “well, I did, but not just that. I'm not too worried, and if I really need, I have plenty of stuff I can resell in here.”

Sunwoo groans. “You're insufferable, even disowned you could buy me.”

Chanhee bursts into laughter, amused by the younger boy's annoyance. “But I won't. I've understood now. I don't want you to feel pressured by this difference anymore. I'll help you for your brother's sake, but I won't get in the way of you sustaining your family.”

It's the deal they made.

They aren't naive to think all is well and they are in the _and then, they lived happily ever after_ part of their relationship – they are bound to stumble and fall and hurt their knees and hands, but as long as they help each other up, perhaps it will be okay. As long as one of them is there to stretch a hand out and the other is ready to reach out to take it, Chanhee thinks they might be fine.

Sunwoo will probably have to get angry at Chanhee a few more times when he will yield to a glass of wine, and he will probably get annoyed back because _one drink is okay_. Chanhee will probably also have to worry about Sunwoo overworking himself a lot more in the future and remind him that he's not alone, that Chanhee can help him as well. But Chanhee thinks they might be fine because they're not naive enough to think they have fixed each one of their issues.

“We'll figure it out as we go,” Chanhee concludes, and Sunwoo hums, raising himself onto his elbows and kissing him. “I love you.”

Sunwoo grins against his mouth. “I love you too. Especially naked like that.” Sunwoo yelps when Chanhee viciously hits him.

Yeah, Chanhee thinks as they're getting ready to celebrate their own living on, they might be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is, the end. i hope you enjoyed this not-so-small work. i tried to keep it short but the more i wrote, the more i had to say, until it reached this point.
> 
> i am a little sad i didn't get to really focus that much on sunwoo if i wanted to keep the length decent but i'm thinking abt making a second part of the story that would work in the same way (like it would take place after, but it would be on sunwoo's unresolved issues with a hint of chanhee's lows and highs this time). i'm not promising anything and i don't know if it would interest someone, it will also depend on how much time i have on my hands because unlike chanhee, as someone who is in my final years of uni i don't have as much time lol. this story could've been longer and more detailed if i thought i could focus on a really long fic but the 2 weeks i spent working on this really were me taking advantage of the little free time i got for the first time since the start of 2021 (oh, how i wish i could've written more of the process of them getting to know each other, or even detailed more their trip at sunwoo's family home). 
> 
> do let me know if this piece of fiction moved you, because i feel like i poured my entire soul into it and i'd like to know it if it resonated with you.
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/mingiopom) / [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/etoilephilante)


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